


Marinette Jor-El Wayne

by CountTashtag



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Miraculous Ladybug, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alfred for world's best Grampa, Alfred has skills, Big Brother Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne has an adoption problem, Bruce Wayne is old enough to be Superman's dad, Bruce has no idea how to parent, Bruce's adopting habits are contagious, Card Games, Cards, Clark is oblivious, Crossover, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Damian must suffer, Family Shenanigans, Jason Needs Help, Jason does not think things through, Kryptonian Marinette, Mao - Freeform, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Marinette does not understand country lifestyle, Marinette is good sister, Marinette vs Damian, Other, Pranks, Protective Bruce Wayne, feel sorry for Tim, impossible card games, no beta we die like jason, non-canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 24,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24869410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountTashtag/pseuds/CountTashtag
Summary: What if superman wasn't the only Kryptoian to survive the explosion of Krypton.Better question what happens when said Kryptonian lands in the most crime ridden city on earth.Even better question what happens when they are taken in by Gotham's own serial adopter, Bruce Wayne.shenanigan ensueP.s I try to update this fornightly, I will apologies now for the instances in which I fail to do so. I will also be one of those authors who will rename the peice to state IF I ever stop writing it. appologies for those who were excited at the prospect of an update, but I've been asked a few times now if I am continueing this piece and thought it best to clear the airyour cringe inducing writer Count Tashtag
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Clark Kent
Comments: 327
Kudos: 625





	1. Arival

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Krypto-Bat Twins AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23677912) by [SilverWhiteRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWhiteRaven/pseuds/SilverWhiteRaven). 
  * Inspired by [QUARANTINED: RED ROBIN’S TIK TOK ACCOUNT](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23175265) by [JustThatOneGirl1815](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustThatOneGirl1815/pseuds/JustThatOneGirl1815). 



> I can not take credit for this story idea, that credit should go to SilverWhiteRaven as this was their story first. I'm just going to try and have fun with this.  
> I will gladly take creative criticism feel free to comment

There are over 3000 known comets in our solar system, and scientists believe there to up to a billion total, but this comet was not one of them. How did Batman know this?

First of all because he is Batman, paranoia comes with the cowl.

Second because he has been watching the incoming meteorites approach for the better part of a week. At first it was simply just for the interest of Dick, his young ward, after the bat computer first alerted them to the incoming shower. Then Dick used the bat computer hack a satellite for pictures.

Bruce wasn’t entirely sure whether this behaviour deserved punishment or not. Dick managed to get away unscathed as Bruce notice that one of the poorly imaged comments had no tail. Red flags were raised by that.

Piece of rock hurdling through space were supposed to break down and leave an iconic tail behind. This had started the relatively short-lived crusade of comet chasing. It had peaked the Bat’s interest even further when the tailless meteorite would be flying over Gotham, the concern being that the meteor could actually cause his city damage. Another sleepless night showed that no, none of the comets would not crush in the city nor land just within their city limits, read territory, enough to warrant investigation of anything that could potential survive the harshness of impact with the earth’s surface.

That was precisely how Batman found himself looking through binoculars for shooting stars dancing across the sky with his sidekick Robin hopping excitedly from foot to foot beside him. In broad daylight. Yeah Batman didn’t do daylight, but the aforementioned paranoia didn’t do sleep either apparently.

Alfred was back at the cave assuring the young boy.

‘Yes, it is exciting Master Dick’, ‘No I don’t believe they be quite like fireworks Master Dick’ and the reoccurring ‘It is a meteor not a space craft Master Dick, there will not be any aliens Master Dick’.

Bruce had honestly tunned it out some time ago standing vigilante atop the edge of his city.

Dick was in the middle of another comment about not being able to prove alien didn’t exist when it started. Crimson and amber streak burning across the already bright sky.

A quick glanced showed Bruce that Dick stood amazed at the sight, wholly captivated by the bright flashes. Soon too was the stoic Batman ensnared by the splendour.

So ensnared that he almost missed the one tailless meteor swerve. Keyword almost. The Batman snapped out of his stupor immediately, falling to the batmobile park on the streets below. Waiting only until Robin drops into the seat beside him to case after the prized object.

Of course, the comet had the advantage of speed as even the batmobile could not reach the awesome speed of 60km/s. They also had the disadvantage of having no idea where the comet was headed, past the cardinal point.

The drive to the crash site was silent both vigilantes silently puzzling out the situation.

Bruce was trying to figure out what had caused the meteorite to change course and land several kilometres within the city limits.

Dick was trying to figure out how to speak with the potential alien who would probably not know Romani any better than English.

The crash site itself held more questions then answers. They had lost sight of the comet some time ago, but Alfred had traced its impact point to an old non-developed farming area just on the edge of Gotham.

They arrived to see a still mostly intact field. The only proof of the abnormal was a streak thought the grass, of a fire burned out, leading to a charred object in the centre of the field.

Leaving the bat car unattended for the second time that night, the vigilantes did the much-warned action of walking towards the strange object recently fallen from the sky.

Certain details became clearer on their approach;

> Firstly, the object, they were pretty sure it wasn’t a normal comet at this point, had ‘survived’ the crash, though it seemed as the thing had nearly been torn in two.
> 
> Secondly, the whole thing seemed smooth, very much unlike the uneven chunk of rock they were expecting.
> 
> Third, it was metal, maybe, Batman wasn’t sure, a rare occurrence for the man.

“Cool, spaceship”, spoke Dick breaking the silence as he marvelled at the object, keeping distance only because the heat radiating to his face was already making him sweat at the distance he was at already.

> Fourth, the object quite literally had no better description, it was all too alien.

A whimper brought the two males from their outlandish thoughts, thoughts becoming all far too plausible.

A gloved hand reached out attentively to touch to pod. The Bat recoiled at the heat and Dick at his soft hiss of pain.

Whatever mechanics had survived the crash whirred into motion.

Batman being the taller of the two, Dick only turned 13 a few months ago, leaned over the . . . capsule as he identified it to be. Nothing could have possible prepared him for what he saw.

A child, perhaps 2, lay bundled in a deep red blanket. Her dark hair surprisingly tame from her journey. Her eyes remained closed as she whimpered again, curling further in on herself in the process.

Bruce’s heart broke for the girl in that moment. A curious Dick had peaked from up on his toes.

“Can we keep her!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes that was a Megamind reference, cause I can and I totally see Dick saying that


	2. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the bat cave and the morning after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my Dad for being a sound board and the extra at the end is all him

Dick had yet to let the little baby leave his sight as he held her in his arms gently cooing and rocking accordingly. This was fine with Bruce as he had no idea what to do with the little child who had fallen from the sky. Scratch that he had no idea what to do with children period. Yes, he had his ward Richard, but Bruce was fairly sure that Alfred was responsible for any success there.

2 hours. That’s how long it had taken Batman to clean up the ship and the surrounding area before arriving back at the cave for the second time in as many hours. Now the only evidence of the abnormal is the freshly patted dirt where burn grass had been hours before, the apparent spaceship they had placed in the bat mobile on his second trip and a little baby wrapped in red.

‘Is red for girls or boys?’ he thought absent minded, before dismissing the notion entirely. ‘I cannot handle another child’.

Bruce looked over to his young ward still holding the tiny bundle as Alfred handed his young ward as baby’s bottle full of water and instructed him on how to let them drink. It was a heart-warming sight. He felt his chest grow heavy as he sat down back towards the pair to his computer.

“The young Master seems quite taken by the young miss. If you don’t mind my saying so Master Bruce, I don’t believe you’ll get a turn. I wouldn’t put it past the young Master to allow the child to sleep with him sir.”

Bruce removed his cowl placing it down on the desk.

“We can’t keep her Alfred.” His voice soft enough to not garner Dick’s attention but stern enough to convey his point, “She should be raised by someone more qualified”

Bruce was certain of it, there was only one problem.

WHO ON EARTH IS QUALIFIED TO LOOK AFTER A BABY THAT FELL FROM THE SKY!

No one. Least of all him.

“While I would agree Master Bruce that the girl’s life would be made easier by someone more experienced with the situation, I’m afraid such a person may not exist.” Alfred’s gaze shifting more from the infant to Bruce.

Again no one was qualified, there entailed the problem. How could he or anyone else help the girl when they didn’t know the first thing about her. There was no win-win scenario here, there was no golden solution. There were however some very bad idea’s they could take off the table now.

Namely anything that involved ‘Gotham’ and ‘authorities’ in the same sentence. There would be no way of ensuring her safety, should her origins become common knowledge. There were too many unknowns.

“Alfred?”

“Yes, Master Bruce”

Bruce sighed. This could not and would not be solved tonight. “Do whatever you deem necessary to ensure both Dick and the girl make it to bed tonight, safely. We’ll discuss this further in the morning.”

It would take Alfred but a few words to convince the young ward to retire for the evening, and to at last hold the tiny girl in his arms as he took them both to Dick’s room.

As predicted the young vigilante wasn’t willing to allow the girl to leave his side. Upon Alfred’s retort that the girl would have no where to sleep, Dick simply emptied his sock draw and placed it near the centre of a bed he’d always through too large anyway.

After sourcing more bedding from somewhere – one does not question the power of Alfred – to soften the draw, the two children were asleep.

It was the most peaceful and tearful sight for the old man had seen in the mansion for quite some time. ‘That girl would do this family a lot of good’ he thought silently to himself as he left them to sleep.

The following morning as Bruce discovered was quite eventful.

The young girl had woken up and been a tad upset that everything was damp from when she’d wet the bed in her sleep. Alfred had found it quite amusing to watch the young ward attempting to clean the girl himself, not wanting to leave her alone long enough to get help. A fair but futile endeavour as the young girl seem not at all drowsy as she had the night before and rather full of energy. Energy she directed at the Robin in the form of squirming out of his grasp wherever possible and battling with the steam of warm water of his bathroom sink.

Alfred saw fit to intervene only after invited by his young master in a soaking wet night shirt, instructing the young ward to go change.

The girl seemed satisfied with Alfred steady hand to allow him to bath her. Especially after she tried and failed at splashing him, only for his to duck aside as Dick came back in to say hi. Needless to say, Dick left once again to change.

Alfred also ended up being the one responsible of securing a nappy to the girl a Dick couldn’t follow any of the YouTube tutorials by the time Alfred had already finished.

Breakfast proved that Dick had learned nothing of the mornings events as he attempted to feed his newly proclaimed little sister. After learning that she’d didn’t do ‘aeroplane’ food and ‘spaceship’ food received a uncensored pfth, he just left the spoon in her capable hands.

He way then promptly hit with incoming mashed banana to the back of the head. Baby:15 –  
Dick: love.

As a trained vigilante he should have known better then to underestimate his opponent.

“Ba. . . ” Dick never got to finish that sentence as another lump of banana was catapulted straight into his mouth and he swallowed on reflex. 30 – love

Bruce walk in on the culinary assault; his ward was already covered in an assortment of mashed fruit. He also witnessed the child propel a clump of banana with sniper accuracy at the edge of Dick’s bowl of cereal. A bowl that proceeded to flip up onto Dicks head. and that’s game.

Bruce found the sight of Dick spluttering from the milk dripping down his face, rather amusing, but he will forever deny chuckling.

The non-existent chuckle caught the baby’s attention, causing her to search for more ammo. Bruce was not smug, read was completely too smug for someone who thought they’d just outsmarted a baby.

He diffidently wasn’t smug when the tiny plastic spoon embedded itself in the wall beside Bruce. The room was filled with silence bar the baby laughing at his stunned face.

“I do believe Master Bruce that any attempt to relocate the child may be met with some difficulty.” Alfred, as always was correct. Removing the bowl from his younger master’s head he continued. “I do believe you have a new little sister Master Dick.”

Dick looked unsure whether to be excited or terrified looking between the adults in the room. It was when his gaze fell to the baby’s joyous face, he chose the first.

Bruce settled for the middle ground. This was happening whether he liked it or not. On one hand he was still pretty sure this was a bad idea. On the other hand, he had both the resources and drive to investigate her origins and apparent super strength.

“You may be right Alfred.”

“Shall I inform the Wayne family lawyers then Master Bruce”

Bruce nodded. “should they ask this should be the last time I decide to take in a child.”

Bruce was proved wrong less than 3 weeks later when he caught a young boy attempting to steal his hub caps.

Extra: (I promised shenanigans)

Dick: Here comes the aeroplane Nnnnnroow

Baby: Meh (baby bats the spoon away)

Dick: Ok no plane. (Gets a look on his face that says I have the greatest idea ever) Here comes the spaceship, Whap, whap , whap.

Baby: Mah! (baby bats the spoon away again)

Dick: Ok I’m out of things that fly (puts spoon down to scratch head, baby picks up spoon and start poking her food.) I mean. . . I guess that works

(Dick is confused but not looking a horse in the face and goes to get his cereal)

(Dick comes back with bowl of cereal that get shot out of his hands by projectile banana)

(Dick runs for cover as banana onslaught continues)

(Alfred comes in with a frying pan and defends himself Tangled style)

(Bruce walks in and is completely stunned as piece of banana goes straight through the frying pan and hits in the face)

(Bruce is not amused)

(The baby is)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My three favourite words  
> "Because", "I", "Can"


	3. Sibling bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Marinette because I love it  
> Plus big brother Jason!

Bruce being an only child had never experienced the joys of sibling rivalry. But of course, he had been always been somewhat envious of those who did have sibling and the constant companionship. Companionship, Bruce learned, that got old very quickly.

It had taken Jason, his newly adopted son, less then 24 hours to get into a fight with his now older brother who had vigilante training and 5 years on him. Needless to say, the fight ended up with one boy chasing the other and only stopped when Marinette began crying.

After creating a fake identity for the girl as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the adoption process had gone smoothly, and anyone had yet to suspect the girl was anything other than an adorable young toddler. Officially her parents Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain were bakers who died in a shooting; common enough not so as to go unnoticed and traumatic enough to never mention.

Now Marinette Wayne, the youngest of the household, was somehow the most reasonable of his children. Despite the initial trails of dealing with his daughter’s super strength, the child was an angel, adored by all around her. As evident by the fact that she already had both of brothers wrapped around her finger and have perfected the fine art of baby doll eyes.

Dick had taken to taking pictures of his little sister and had a special folder for the pictures of all the mayhem she caused and all of her more interesting videos.

The very first picture in said folder was of an interesting one.

It was taken by Alfred on Jason’s first morning in the mansion. Bruce had asked the young boy how he’d slept.

Jason had responded in all his street kid glory with “Better, still kinda expected to be knifed in my sleep or some sh*t”

Marinette who was being brought down by Dick to be introduced to Jason, overheard the response and did as all young children do.

“Sh*t!” she exclaimed.

Jason whipped his head around to see the smiling toddler in the arms of a petrified Dick. Oh

“Sh*t!” Jason had to think for a moment if that was him or not.

“Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t!” Nope the baby was sprouting it like crazy. He snuck a peak at Bruce and proceeded to run like hell

Bruce looked absolutely livid. The girls first word – that they knew of – and she had cussed. $%@!&%$!

The family favourite – minus Jason – was also a particularly eventful day for Jason to which the entire story simply must be told.

Having settled in the manor fairly well after the initial brawling with Dick a few days before, Jason was looking after Mari. He likes hanging out with her, she didn’t ask questions doesn’t have expectations, to her he’s just Jay-Jay. The nickname was a badge of honour won with pride, insult it and you lose a tooth.

“Jay-Jay! Come!” ever diligent Jason complied to the little pixie. Who’d been let crawl/walk, she was so close to walking on her own, around the garden with a tennis ball while he read a book.

“What’s up Pixie?” he asked curious as to what the girl wanted, as she was usually pretty complacent, with him at least – Dick had apparently been on her mischievous side. The guy had had sworn up and down to Jason the girl could be a little devil when she wanted to be.

Jason had laughed at that; hard. The girl was 3. How bad could she possibly be.

“Ball!” little Marinette cried pointing up to the tree where her ball had gotten caught amongst some of the higher branches. “can’t get it back.” She brought out her ultimate weapon baby doll eyes™.

The eyes were unnecessary but prompted a rare hug from the boy. “Don’t ya worry Pixie I’ll get ya ball back.” Looking at the tree, allowing his competitive streak to kick in “Watch this.”

Jason climbs the tree managing to hit himself with some of the flexible branches – earning laughter from his Pixie so he doesn’t mind – to claim back the yellow ball before jumping back down to the ground near Mari.

“How’d you get that ball up there anyway, Pixie?” he asked as he picked up Mari to give her the ball.

“Throw, Jay-Jay I throw”

“Throw!” he exclaimed humouring the young girl. Marinette was not impressed with that response.

“I Throwed it Jay-Jay” her pout was adorable

“Pixie there is no way you threw the ball that high. Your too little” he sealed his fate with that statement. Definitely not impressed with her brother lack of faith at her word, the little girl started squirming to be put down.

Jason complied silently. A part of him felt he should be worried that he would most likely be the target of Mari’s feats of strength. The other part of him said it was adorable watching her try to take a good stance to throw from as she spun around making herself dizzy.

Jason most certainly was not prepared for the ball to rocket out of Pixie’s hand, hit the mansion ricochet higher then bounce all around the garden into the assorted trees and monuments before hitting the tree he’d just climbed. It then landed promptly back in Mari’s tiny little hand.

Jason to the distress of the little Pixie fainted.

Tiny 3-year-old Marinette had come inside dragging Jason carefully from beneath his shoulder. This was around the time Dick realised they forgot the tell Jason his little sister was actually an alien for all they knew

this was around the same time that Dick saw fit to immortalise it, thus the hilarious image.

extra

Jason will deny it till the day he dies, but his favourite member of the 'photo album'. Was a picture taken by Bruce as he stumbled across Jason where he'd reading Peter Rabbit to Mari in the Library. They'd both fallen asleep of the armchair and had equally peaceful smiles on their faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A piece of me really wants to do extra 1 shots just of favourite moments for Dick's 'scrapbook'  
> there are just too many good options


	4. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthday shenanigans.  
> Baby girl is 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mari will probably be either 7 or 10, I'm undecided, in the next chapter just a heads up

Marinette was 4 today. At least according to the city, she was turning 4. Her Dad had never made a secret of where she came from, they just weren’t supposed to mention it outside the house.

Marinette didn’t quite understand but was content seeing as she never left the mansion much anyway, really what did it matter. Her family was just too much fun.

Marinette adored watching Ri-Ri – because she wasn’t supposed to call him Dick, that made Dad mad – do all those cool flips and swings on the trapeze. She loved Ri-Ri’s lessons even more; imagining herself being able to do all those tricks kept her doing her stretches every day, sometimes he’d even let her have fun on the parallel bars, he just had to move them closer together for her.

Jay-Jay was fun to hang out with too. He’d grab her half an hour before she went to bed. Then grab one of the massive, heavy books in the library. Shaky Spear’s stories were cool, and Mari loved all the funny voices and faces Jason made. Sometimes re-enact some of the fight scenes, there was never too much reading there anyway. Jason was just careful to pick them passages _without_ cursing; he’d learnt his lesson.

Alfred was by far her favourite member of the household. He didn’t have school like her brothers and didn’t go to work like her Dad; the butler was home almost all the time, and when he did have to go out it gave Marinette time to bake him a surprise – usually macaroons, Marinette wasn’t sure what about the French biscuits intrigued her but the whole family agreed that they were delicious so. Alfred on top of introducing her to the exclusive Wayne kitchen, the Waynes minus Mari were more likely to cook themselves then dinner, also showed her how to pay attention. To watch, analyse and predict the situation, for the most likely outcome and most appropriate responses.

Bruce Wayne was many things Batman, renowned playboy, father of 3 but quitter was not one of them. That being said it had been officially one year since she’d crashed to earth and Bruce was still no closer to finding out where Marinette came from. So far, they’d done pretty well raising the little girl, super strength aside, she could easily pass for a normal toddler. Bruce once again toying with the idea of sending her to the local preschool.

But it wasn’t just her super strength that held him back from making that call. When Marinette had first been brought back to the manor, she, unsurprisingly, didn’t understand English. Now she would easily be able to hold a conversation with her would be peers, but the language wasn’t the only thing Marinette had picked up in the past year. Marinette was picking up skills left, right and centre, fast. Partially because of the language barrier she’d overcome in the past year, her ability to read body language far surpassed others her age. Jason already taken on the task of teaching the girl to read, slowly but surely, and found her already understanding Shakespeare, old-timey English and all. Dick had her doing stretches and basic gymnastics exercises as a channel for her abnormal strength. However, in all this extension of her mental and physical prowess they were also making it much harder to determine a base line of her abilities. How much had **they** taught her. How much had she already known.

The working theory to explain Marinette’s super strength and perhaps her accelerated thought process, though she could just be that smart on her own, was that she was an alien. There was just one thing wrong with this theory. They couldn’t prove it.

There were far too many questions and not enough answers. The ship she arrived in having proved just as futile a search for answers. At least they assumed it had been a ship, with what was left it was hard to tell. The vessel had barely survived impact, only the opening mechanism remained intact. Bruce suspect that if not for Marinette thick skin – inability to collect blood samples did not help their search – she would have died in the crash.

So here they were one year later, surrounding the little girl as she was about to blow out the candles, no closer to solving the mystery that was their little ball of sunshine.

But standing there watching his little girl practically vibrating with excitement, he knew that it didn’t matter. Whatever the girl was, wherever she’d come from, he knew who she was now. God help the man who dared even attempt to hurt her.

“Blow out the candles Cupcake!” Dick was very appreciative of his little sister’s baking

“Make a wish Pixie Pop”, the ‘pop’ was added after the ball incident.

Alfred stood, camera at the ready, as Marinette was standing on tiptoes upon her chair. The girl squeezed her eyes tight in deep concentration. “aaaahhhhoooooooo!”

The family burst into applause.

Dick came up to Mari with the large kitchen knife. “Let’s _cut_ to the chase shall we.”

The family sans birthday girl groaned. Mari just laughed.

Dick carefully grabbed his sister’s hands and guided her to cut the first slice of the pinkest cake the manor had ever seen. “How’s about we make sure we don’t cut the plate this time Cupcake.”

Mari pouted at the reference to the dinner fiasco of last week, which easily made its way into Dick’s scrapbook. A scrapbook that had been expanded to include the rest of the family’s photos of Mari. The scrapbook had become quiet the inside joke in the family. Oh God The Teething. Mari had been found atop many a grim, Jason was willing to bet there was no longer a grim in Gotham that hadn’t had its ear ‘adjusted’ by Pixie Pop. Even the Bat signal had not been spared, if the mangled bat shaped it threw up into the sky one night was anything to go off of. The GCPD was of the firm belief they just had a rat problem.

“That was one time”, Mari’s pout was adorable

“One time this week,” Bruce interjects, the pout target was adjusted.

“But I can dos it! I can even dos it betterer than you!” Dick just smiled it off as did the rest of the household, minus Alfred. Alfred know better than to underestimate the girl.

The knife was removed from Dick’s hand in a flash. Before the Batfam’s eyes the cake was sliced up into 5 even pieces. Each piece disappearing from the cake platter and reappearing Infront of the recipient.

Before Bruce could even blink Mari was sitting back in her chair not a care in the world as she began devouring the mass of pink before her.

They could apparently add super speed to his daughter’s list of abilities. Right after making Jason faint.

Extra (curtesy of SilverWiteRaven):

Jonathan watching Martha wrangle in a newly-speedy child,

Jonathan: Well, if we ever get sheep, we know he can herd them better than a sheep dog now.

Martha: Not helping, Jonathan!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record I'd just like to state that a grim, is more commonly refereed to as a gargoyle, but gargoyles actually have to have water coming out of their mouths.  
> See fun police you can learn things reading fanfic


	5. Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> saddness we loose Jason now. But we gain a Tim. 
> 
> this is a short chapter sorry, please forgive me

Black. Everything was black. Marinette hated it. Black suits. Black dresses. Black umbrellas. Even the skies of Gotham where black. Black and crying. Just like she was.

The proclaimed sunshine of Gotham stood in black, tear framing her usually bluebell eyes. Bluebell ringed with blood red. Blood. She’d never bled herself, but she’d seen plenty of it when helping Alfred tend to her family’s wounds from they’re nightly activities. Marinette had never been so affected by it before. Then again, she’d also never seen a body before.

But now.

Her family stood over Jason’s grave. Richard had already cried all his tears for the day, but his eyes were still raw and tinged with red. Alfred stood behind him, eyes wet but the tears refused to fall, holding the umbrella. Her Dad. Bruce had been hit the hardest she knew, but he showed it the least. Mari just stood there unmoving as she stared at the casket, they lowered it down into the ground, they spoke words she didn’t hear, gave prays she couldn’t understand. She stood motionless though it all.

Before she knew it, Alfred was kneeling down beside her. “Marinette,” he spoke softly. She moved for the first time in over an hour. Her eyes still stinging with tears as she turns to meet the gaze of the man she’d always seen as her grandfather. Then he spoke the words that brought her words crashing down. “It’s time to say goodbye.”

Marinette collapsed into the older man’s arm. “No!” she screamed, her first closing around the butler’s suit. “No! No. No. no. no, n n n”. Sobs shook her to her core as she felt a pair of arms encompass her.

The sky still cried its big fat tears, but she couldn’t feel them. Nor did she feel the cold bite as a gust blew through her already soaked dress.

There was so much yet so little she wanted to say. “it’s not fair”, she whispered.

Alfred still heard her. Pulling even further into his embrace. “The world rarely is.” A hard truth, but a truth none the less.

A few weeks later

Marinette was many things, happy was not currently one of them.

It had been a normal morning, or so she’d thought, until she’d come downstairs to young teenager she’d never seen.

The young boy looked up from his cereal to introduce himself. Tim.

It was around that time that Dad came in. He told her of the night before where Tim had broken into the Batcave. Marinette was not happy to learn that someone had both learned of her father’s identity and had effectively blackmailed him with it even if the blackmail was just in the form of training him to become the next robin.

The rest of breakfast was Marinette subtly side-eyeing Tim from across the table, him unawares.

After breakfast Bruce pulled her aside. Marinette was still annoyed, but she followed the gist of the conversation. Tim had found out about Bruce, the Batman, and Dick, the first Robin now Nightwing, but was unaware of abilities. He also informed her that Tim would be staying and while she should try to get along with her new brother her secrets were hers to share.

The gears in Marinette’s head began turning before her father even half finished their conversation.

Maybe she should try to get to know her new brother better, Dick would be on board with that.

Oh, this week just became a whole lot more fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggestions for messing with Tim anyone?  
> I have a few ideas but this just seems like the perfect opportunity to let the lot of you run wild


	6. Pranks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette doesn't like her family being blackmailed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is no story here this is just messing with Tim and nothing else.  
> Also character ages because apparently I confused people  
> (this chapter)  
> Mari - 7  
> Tim - 13  
> Dick - 19-20  
> Bruce - who knows  
> Alfred - Classified

Mari decided to start small, after she had to get a feel for just what Tim could handle.

It had started with his phone. Sneaking into his room was far too easy. Keeping in mind that the manor had been her home for as long as she could remember, Dick and Bruce had begun low key training with her, and Alfred was way too much fun to imitate, it was to be expected.

“óvis nim rOZúm RO}p.”

It wasn’t until Tim had come home from school the first day that he discovered that Dick’s ring tone had been changed. The teacher had not been pleased with the interruption of her class.

_'Star Trekking across the universe_

_On the star ship enterprise under Captain Kurt_

_Star Trekking across the universe_

_Only going forward ‘cause we can’t find reverse’_

Dick had heard about the initial incident and had cornered Tim that same afternoon. They found that all his ringtones had been changed.

Bruce – Mars bringer of war, From ‘The Planets’, Gustav Holst

Alfred – Star Treking

Everything else - Public Service Broadcasting, Sputnik (find here, [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=It42TsD7_sI&feature=youtu.be&list=PLvoWrbmtGFJ3D98x2gDlQnoEIcQnYRvlw](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=It42TsD7_sI&feature=youtu.be&list=PLvoWrbmtGFJ3D98x2gDlQnoEIcQnYRvlw))

To say Dick was amused was an understatement. He was bent over laughing. To him it was obvious what had happened, but alas for Tim, he knew better then to be on his sister’s warpath. No. Best to get out of the blast radius as fast as possible.

The evening was very uninformative for Tim, who dismissed the event as a happy accident. The ringtone had he very quickly established amongst the geeks and the nerds. They decided that the new kid couldn’t be too bad, if he was daring enough to broadcast a love of Sci-fi for all the world to hear.

Prank 1 was now complete. ‘Well,’ thought Marinette, “time to up the ante.”

Making him chase his shoes around for 5-10 minutes for a few days was hilarious. Dick even helped her by accidentally, he truly didn’t realise until it was too late, closing the door on Tim as he ran after the runaway shoes. The boys then proceeded to walk and searched for 15 minutes before realising they were hanging from the chandelier. Dick had fun getting them down again.

Truth be told green was a good colour on Tim. Too bad he didn’t agree with her when it was painted over his face with the edition of black alien eyes. The funniest part was when he’d woken up and hadn’t realised it was there and went down to breakfast with the makeover still intact. Only the ever-stoic batman could fight the need to laugh. She got Alfred to chuckle, she called that a win. The images of that morning would forever be a family favourite in the scrapbook.

Tim’s not sure when tiny, green, toy soldiers started following him. Honestly after the first few incidents he started doubting everything.

He thinks one of the first ones showed up was the platoon he found in his bathroom, aiming at him when he opened the cabinet. Toy soldiers? in the bathroom cupboard? Thing is he blinked, and they were gone. He just dismissed it as early morning daydreaming. This is why he needed coffee

Then they were in his cereal. He was ready to call Alfred when they’d already disappeared. Again, there one minute there, gone the next.

Okay the first it was his bathroom, then it was his cereal now they were everywhere he looked.

It was the 15th? 16th? Such sighting of the toys that Dick had been present for. Dick saw the soldiers. Tim was sure of it. The first robin remained silent. But that smirk. Ugh.

This is how Tim concluded that Dick knew what was going on and had no intention of sharing. Marinette walked in as her eldest brother walked out. A blessing, Tim decided.

Marinette had grown up with Dick. If anyone knew what the eldest was hiding, and would actually tell him, it would be his innocent little sister. He launched straight into an explanation of the past few days, the ringtones, the teleporting shoes, the disappearing figurines and referring her back to the midnight makeover she’d witness a few days prior.

After watching the little girl have a good laugh, she considered his story a moment before she replied.

“Sounds like you upset some little green men, to me.”

With that she left Tim slack jawed and let him torture himself over her carefully chosen words.

Let the trolling begin

Now this is what Marinette was waiting for.

Tim was on to her. Kinda. He knew someone or something was after him. He just would sooner cry ghost then blame Marinette for his recent misfortune. After all how could anyone blame the sweet 7-year-old. Was Marinette ashamed of using her age to her advantage? If people were going to think her incapable for her age then no, she had no problem at all.

Therefore, Marinette’s epiphany was that she no longer needed to lift so much as a finger to mess with Tim. He was doing all the heavy lifting for her. Watching him jump at his own shadow was just a tad satisfying. Did that make her a bad person. Just a tad. Tim was gonna learn what it meant to blackmail the bats, even if she technically wasn’t a bat or a vigilante yet the principle applied.

But like all good things it ended with a bang.

Messing with his stuff was almost too easy. She was carefully not to ruin it, and to make sure it wasn’t too important. She was pretty sure that was the only reason Dad had let her get away with this for as long as she had.

When she saw the look her father gave her on her second day of no pranks – she was thinking of outing herself anyway, she’d way underestimated Tim paranoia, it was getting cruel – she knew what she had to do.

“Hey Tim,” she called to him from across the table when she’d finished eating. Tim looked up from his half-finished dinner, exhausted from the previous week. OK she’d gone overboard.

“Yeah?”

she couldn't resist “Oh, not much. Just thought you’d like to know aliens are real, I am one and I’ve been using my alien abilities to get back at you for blackmailing my dad,” she replied with a straight face, a monotone voice and without taking a breath.

The dinning room was silent. Not because anyone other then Tim had actually learned anything new in that sentence. They were just shocked that she’d been so up front about it and just spat it out in a matter that was going to destroy poor Tim mind.

While the family was still recovering from her bomb drop Marinette stood up. “On a completely unrelated note, I’ll be sewing in my room if anyone needs me.”

With that she sped out of the dining room at superspeed.

Tim started bug-eyed, at the departure of the youngest Wayne.

It took a moment for him to process what had happened. Without removing his eyes from the doorway.

“Is Alfred an alien too” Tim whispers to Bruce. All too aware that Alfred could be listening. A hand is placed on his shoulder. “Ahh!”

“I assure you I am quite human Master Tim.” Speak of the devil. If one looked closely, they could see Alfred smirk as he spoke. “I am simply very good at my job. I would suggest you all finish dinner. And when you’ve finished  
Master Tim, I would recommend that you join your sister in her room. I will go and ensure that she plans to give you a proper explanation and an apology for the past weeks events.” With that Alfred left.

Tim’s mind seemed to finally catch up with everything.

In the past week he had blackmailed Batman, one of if not the most powerful man in Gotham. In doing so he had pissed of the daughter of said powerful man who was secretly an alien who he'd never see coming.

Tim was ready to start questioning his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to progress the story some more in the next chapter. I just had too much fun with this  
> also "óvis nim rOZúm RO}p." according to the translator I found this is "This will teach you" in Krytopnian
> 
> p.s. recomended fic for batman fans. https://archiveofourown.org/works/24869410/chapters/61325569


	7. Another one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yes another one.

Life was looking up for Marinette Wayne.

The paparazzi hadn’t been able to critique the lot of them in months. Her sewing skills had really come along. Though her current project was knitting a scarf for her brother Tim and her dress for her first Gala in a few weeks’ time. Their relationship had really come a long way since the beginning of the now dubbed ‘Prank War of Gotham’ 2 ½ years ago. While coming from a rocky start Marinette can now honestly call Tim, brother, and vis versa.

From the vigilante side of things, crime was actually calming down for once. Tim was really taken to his role of Robin. Nightwing’s work in Budhaven while not as obvious was making a notable difference. Lastly the prank war was ongoing it was more taking advantage of opportunity then plotting, Dick had long since joined in, and if things went too far Bruce would dish out punishment appropriately, especially when the no pranks on patrol rule is breached.

On the plus side being constantly alert for pranks had upped all of their awareness and gave them a plausible reason to be so aware, of their surroundings which was great for when the rest of her family went on patrol – Marinette was still too young but didn’t mind. Why

  1. She did not have anywhere near enough training yet, she 10 for crying out loud.
  2. School was tiring enough without it. Why? Her superpowers. That’s why.



Super strength was apparently another way to say super clumsy. A trait everyone at school had noticed. Hitting the ground to hard while walking meant choosing to trip apparently, especially if you didn’t want to accidently super jump over the school. The nicknames were still floating around but 

Invulnerable skin meant she couldn’t afford to put herself in a situation where, if she were human, she could be hurt. For fear that she wouldn’t have an injury that she ought to have after some accident or another.

Super speed meant having to write, walk and talk slowly and in pace with the person next to her in case she accidently slipped into superspeed.

Thankfully the one thing she didn’t have to deal with is bullying. That boat had sailed after she’d been face to face with the Riddler and called him out on his fashion of all things.

So aside from school yard mishaps life was great for Marinette who was now 10 years old. Her birthday party as always was a fall family occasion and Marinette cut the cake, at super speed for laughs.

Of course, with everything going so well Marinette should have just seen this coming. After all, fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice.

Well Marinette had as it seems been made the fool as she stood staring at her father’s face. Only it wasn’t her father’s face, this face way newer. Smaller. Younger. This face belonged to Damian Al-Ghoul, the apparent blood son of Bruce Wayne and boy did he know it.

Marinette had once again come down for breakfast on a seemingly normal day only to find a different unfamiliar face at the table.

“Did my dad adopt you too?” she asked as any normal person would.

“Tt. **My** father” Say What Now? “did not adopt me. I am his blood son and therefor his rightful heir. You are dismissed.”

‘Okay rude. Also, on a side note, WHAT!?!?!?!’

Marinette was going to get to the bottom of this. Careful to walk out of the room at normal speed – **if** this brat was going to learn she had powers it would be on her terms, when she could watch – to find her Dad. She was not too happy with the response.

Bruce and both her brothers, when had Dick gotten back, why did no one tell her, in her father’s study. They all froze at the sight of her in the doorway. They all remembered the events that had taken place with Tim they were hoping she wouldn’t be up for another half hour.

When her family refused to break the silence, Marinette took it upon herself. “Anyone want to tell me why there is a boy at the dining room table downstairs.” Seeing as none of them looked ready to answer. “Better yet why does he look like dad; it wouldn’t have anything to do with him saying he’s a blood son whatever that is?”

The awkward silence continued.

Marinette put on her disapproving face; Alfred would be so proud.

“Mari,” dick said tentatively, before mumbling “oh God how do we explain this,” to Tim.

Tim picked up from his brother, “You see Mari when two people love each other very mu. . . ”

“I’ve already had this talk Tim, I asked Alfred 2 months ago.”

The family stared dumbfound. Marinette continued “Anyway what’s that got to do with this?”

Awkward silence again.

“It has to do with my father and my mother.” The boy from the dining table spoke from behind her.

“Explain.” Demanded Marinette to the boy, her family were clearly uncomfortable with the topic, but the boy clearly wasn’t.

“Tt. I don’t answer to you.”

“Damian.” Her Father’s voice held a scolding tone. Nice to put a name to the nameless boy’s face.

The boy, Damian, Marinette corrected, shot Bruce a looked that spoke quite plainly. ‘I have plenty to say and I am not happy for this interruption.’

What a brat. Marinette was liking this guy less and less. So much for life looking up. it was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any thoughts of damian & marinette interactions in the next chapter?  
> feel free to comment I will attempt to include


	8. Sibling bonding repeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian and Marinette do not mix.  
> P.s. Marinette is bad as

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy, and please comment I love new ideas

If the manor had been hectic back when Dick and Jason had been fighting now it was about to become an absolute war zone with the two youngest Waynes at the centre of it all.

At least when it had been the boys going at it, they hadn’t actually tried to hurt each other. Much.

Marinette and Damian on the other hand were going at it like a pair of feral cats. Why?

Well it all started with Damian explaining that he was Bruce’s biological son.

“My mother has said I am to stay here in Gotham until the matters with the league now that Grandfather is dead.”

That was fine. Understandable even, Marinette felt sorry that he had to leave his life, while not a particularly nice, behind. Marinette couldn’t even imagine life without Alfred, the loss of a grandparent must be hard. It was his response to her attempt at an introduction that was definitely not fine. Neither was the blade at her throat, where had he even hid it.

“I have no intention of partaking in any activity with those who are beneath me. Any of your simplistic, girlish games do not interest me. Nor do I wish to see or speak to you anymore then absolutely necessary. My only interest is in becoming **_My_** Father’s true heir and successor, you are not currently an obstacle on this path, and it would do you well not to become one. Understood?”

So, let’s recap, Elitist, and he’s sexist, and to top it off a smug, know-it-all who got a kick out of annoying his ‘obviously inferior’ peers. She used the term peers very loosely. He didn’t let her reply either.

“If you even think of using your ‘abilities’ to challenge me, you will find no feet of strength of speed capable of saving you.”

He vanished. Leaving Marinette alone in the corridor. Pissed. He knew her secret. He knew her secret and was threatening her. He was going down.

The next morning at breakfast both the children, Tim was more adult then child, came down to breakfast. Everyone else was at work so it was just them and Alfred, who would be dropping Marinette off at school. The meal was more sideways glances, glares and growls then food. Marinette had been so distracted by her brooding she failed to notice the time. Forgoing her already discovered secret Marinette practically inhaled her remaining breakfast at super speed, grab her bag and ran full speed at the door. Or at least that was her intent.

Damian’s foot tripping and sending her flying though the door and tumbling across the floor most definitely was not.

Marinette looked back over her shoulder to see Damian swiftly tucking his foot back under the table. He sat facing his cereal, but she didn’t need to see his face to know he was smirking.

Oh, how she wished the signature ‘bat-glare’ she was sending his way could make him explode. She would settle for setting him on fire at this point. A traitorous part of her was picturing doing just that the old fashioned was with the matches in the kitchen.

Alfred punctual as ever called out. School beckoned.

Damian had struck first, Marinette reminded herself as she snuck into his room that afternoon. Damian was down training in the Batcave when she got home, good. Some revenge pranks for this morning were in order.

Damian had found himself rather pleased with how productive the day had been. Identifying the rooms of each of his father’s ward and any possible escape routes for both him and his, ugh, brothers. His brothers were going to be an interesting obstacle to overcome. What with their presence in Father’s life exceeding his own. Convincing Father to throw them out would be near impossible, apparently. An unexpected, but not impossible hurdle.

Damian pondered as he proceeded up to the room he’d been assigned. Would it not simply be easier to kill them. Grayson had been a member of the family the longest his death would reflect poorly on Damian. Drake on the other had apparently imposed himself upon the family. Yes, if there were to be any hard feelings for either of the boys it would be Drake and what’s more Drake currently held the mantle of Robin removing him would leave the position wide open for him to assume his rightful role as his Father’s true heir.

Ridding himself of Drake was the perfect answer. Batman would need a Robin and there was no else he could ask. Certainly not that metahuman Marinette. The file from the League of Assassins was severely limited. Super speed and super strength were confirmed but the origins of both could only be speculated. It was as if the child had fallen from the sky how she had just appeared overnight. The girl was hardly trained and clumsy, his father couldn’t possibly make her Robin.

Damian opened the door to his aforementioned assigned room. Damian was not happy

The entire room was covered. With guess what

Pink and purple glitter littered the floor covering every crevasse. An assortment of bows of all shapes and sizes have been tied to everything. Lastly tiny stuffed toys complete with glitter and bows were overflowing on his bed. Once particularly large teddy bear holding an envelope sat on his desk.

His room was a tsunami of colour, glitter and fluff, but all Damian saw was red.

Seething.

Hot.

Angry.

red.

He marched over to the poor bear and practically ripped the envelope from its grasp.

Make that murderous red. As he stormed of to find his sister and his katannas.

Extra the note

‘Damian let me be frank

I don’t like you, and I don’t think you like me either. So, if you won’t play nice then neither will I.

If you’re going to insult me and stereo type me then I’ll make sure you understand just how over done those stereotypes are.

In short. I’m not out to get you, I’m out to get even. Don’t bother me and I won’t bother you

Your sister, whether you like it or not, Marinette’


	9. pencils for katannas, seems legit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian tries and fails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out to ICanHazSims thanks for the idea,  
> Thankyou also to SilverWhiteRaven and MadIrishPixie, I'll try and include your ideas in the next chapter. I could not do them justice running on the hectic scheduled that is school

Marinette had kept her word. For every jab Marinette had an equally if not more annoying retaliation.

Damian stole her drawing supplies in retaliation for the stolen katannas. Aka, he had given up looking after 3 hours and held her stationary for ransom. He also skewered all of the stuff toys with what ever daggers and pointed implements he could find and ripped the bows to shreds. That would teach her.

Marinette returned the swords, she knew they were katannas, she just wanted to annoy him. Damian thinking he’d won foolishly returned the stationary. He returned to his room to find nothing amiss, glitter, bows and toys had all disappeared. Good. That is until he was brushing his teeth and a stuff toy fell on his head. He grabbed it on reflex. Damian examined the toy in more detail he realised it was one of the toys on his bed earlier, this one was a dog. A dog he taken pleasure in destroying earlier that evening, that was now whole and containing all its stuffing. How?

Oh no. Damian looked up to the ceiling, every inch of which was covered in glitter, bows and stuffed animals, all of which had been remade and rearranged out of his reach. How had she even managed to get anything up on the ceiling? Better question how was he going to get it all down?

Fuming Damian made a beeline for his ‘sister’s’ room. Unfortunately for Damian the door while it wasn’t locked clearly wasn’t budging

Damian wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do only that it would be bad

He’d figure it out in the morning.

* * *

Patience was a virtue; one Damian did not have. Every night he’d slipped silently out of his room in an attempt in infiltrate his _sister’s,_ the word still tasted like venom on his tongue, room. Each night the door would be unlocked but also unmoving. It infuriated him no end. His only thought was that Marinette had barricaded the door each night, a task she no doubt took advantage of her super strength to accomplish, if her slight frame was anything to go off.

Damian deduced that he would therefor be unable to enter her room while she was asleep. The windows hadn’t budged, and the blinds had obscured any hope of recon. School meant that Damian was out of the house the only time Marinette ever seemed to leave. So, if he wanted to catch her, he had only a small window of time.

Damian had gotten up early to ensure he be ready.

He waited for the quiet shuffling of whatever the youngest Wayne, he revelled in the fact that he was all of 3 months older, bared her door with. Damian remained silent and still. It was only when Marinette took her second step outside of the room he attacked, swift and efficient plunging his dagger straight into the annoyance’s chest, just as he was trained. He looked up to see the life leave her eyes. Instead Damian was met with a smirk. WHAT. THE. HELL.

Marinette obviously enjoying her _brother’s_ confusion grasped her hands around his. Pushing the dagger from her chest, where bare, clean and untouched skin lay beneath a single slice in the fabric of her PJs.

She smiled as her eye darted down to her hands then back up to meet Damian’s. an indication to look down himself. The still somewhat shell-shocked assassin’s curiosity got the best of him.

The knife had crumpled like paper against stone. A steel dagger had given before the soft and malleable skin of the girl before him.

Marinette decided this was the perfect time to leave her brother to his breakdown and left to go about her day.

* * *

Marinette file said, super strength and super speed. It said NOTHING about invulnerability. Any hopes of eliminating Marinette flew out the window. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if Marinette could fly out the window.

There was no way this day could get any worse. Or so he thought. about half a dozen stuffed toys had fallen from the ceiling to his bed and they'd brought glitter with them. at least flight would explain how she got everything up there.

* * *

It became obvious to the household very quickly that something was seriously wrong with their little sunshine child. She was the first to give someone a chance, assuming they didn’t attack her family – if Tim hadn’t resorted to black mail he would have been in for a much nicer welcome to the family – Marinette was very kind and supportive. Instead Damian had received sideways glares and scowls whenever Marinette thought he wasn't looking. He was the world's detective for a reason. That and it is literally impossible to hide anything from Alfred.

Bruce had not expected Marinette to be the one Damian fought with. He as a truly optimistic parent had hoped that all of his children were mature enough not to fight any more. You wish Bruce. While Damian was far more cautious and subtle with his jabs, both verbal and physical, it was obvious even to Bruce that the 10-year-olds were not getting along by any means.

He dreaded the Gala, one week was not long enough for the two to learn to get along. He couldn’t not attend himself, but neither could he, in good conscience, take either of the 10-year-old with the way they were both acting. Marinette was not going to like this. Not at all

bonus-that-is-in-noway-canon-to -he-story-but-is-still-funny-anyway, curtesy of Bbgirl3191 ;D

Bruce: “I’m sorry, but you can’t go to the Gala”

Mari: *gasp* “But papa!! FASHION!! PRETTY DRESSES!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah so I rewrote this about 3 times. I know it's a bit short, but block exams are in like 2 weeks.


	10. Pissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian switches targets.  
> Marinette is so done with Damian.  
> MadIrishPixie you get your wish of rolled up katannas  
> and ICanHazSims, Damian now defies gravity.  
> enjoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter took so long, non-virtual life was hectic

Tonight, Marinette was supposed to be at the Gala. She was supposed to be wearing her pretty dress she’d spent so many long hours working on. She was supposed to be hanging out with Tim and talking about how stupid all the adults were.

Instead she was flopped face first into a pile of hay.

Why you ask?

Damian.

Stupid. Full of himself. Damian.

That’s why.

It was one thing to mess with Marinette, she could take it, it was another to mess with her family.

24 hours ago (2 days after the glitter incident)

Dad had pulled her aside to talk.

“Marinette. Sweetie.” Bruce only called her that when he knew she wasn’t going to like what he had to say. “We need to talk about you and Damian.” Yep she definitely wasn’t going to enjoy this conversation.

Nevertheless, she followed her father diligently into his study.

Marinette has spent all of her life, that she remembers, in this house. She knows her family has never been one for expressing profound emotion, but Marinette had long since learned how to read the Waynes. With that in mind, her dad was obviously uncomfortable and had no idea how to start this conversation even if he refused to show it.

“Marinette,” he began, this was going to be so painful to watch, “I know you and Damian havn’t exactly been getting along -”, understatement of the year, “but I really think you should try to get along it would be good for both of you.”

“Daaad.” Marinette did not like how whiny that came out. “He’s such a brat. He tried t-” Marinette was cut off by her father.

“Marinette, Damian grew up with a lot of bad people, he doesn’t know any better yet, I’m hoping that you can be a good example to him of how someone his age should behave.” Her dad wasn’t serious. Was he?

“I know it’s a lot to ask but I really don’t want to make you stay home for the Gala bec-”

“WHAT!!!” pretty sure that Dick heard that from Buddhaven.

“Marinette, our family is in the public eye we can’t afford to be seen fighting. Damain we have to be introduced to the public, probably at the gala. And if you two can’t behave then you’ll just have to stay home.”

“But Dad that’s not Fair!”

“Life often isn’t” Bruce said with a sigh. Before leaving Marinette in the room alone.

She couldn’t believe it. She was being made to play nice.

This was not going to end well.

Marinette did not last even 24-hours, into the whole no fighting with Damian thing. Through it seems no told Damian that no fighting with your siblings included all the siblings.

Apparently, Damian had switch targets from the indestructible sister to the very much destructible brother.

Tim had been sent home after Damian had stolen an old robin’s uniform, highjacked patrol and attempted to cut Tim’s grapple wire mid-swing.

Marinette.

Was.

Pissed.

And she made sure Damian knew it the second he stepped through the Batcave’s entrance.

Marinette completely disregarded her father’s presence. Practically diving after Damian, the moment his foot was in the cave. She saw red, as they rolled around on the ground. Two 10-year-olds fighting for dominance.

Damian, currently still in the robin’s uniform he stole, got the upper hand as he delivered a sharp knee to her stomach. Allowing him time to stand and draw the twin katannas at his sides.

Marinette couldn’t hear the threat that spewed from his lips. Instead she rushed him at superspeed and sped past him katannas in tow. When Damian, who obviously did not have superspeed, caught up enough to see her standing there with his favourite weapon, he was furious, and it showed.

Marinette’s eyes narrowed at this as she bent the twin blades, knotting them together before throwing them to the floor.

Both children stared at each in outrage. Begging the other to attack first.

It was now Bruce intervened. Bringing himself between the two his twisted his head to look at his daughter. “MARINETTE WAYNE GO TO YOUR ROOM NOW!!!”

Marinette started at her father in shock. Damian had just attacked and nearly killed Tim. But she was in trouble.

“But Da-” she was cut off mid protest.

“Go To Your Room Now!” Marinette was scared, Dad had never yelled at her like this before, but she was also infuriated at the smirk she could see on Damian’s face.

The downside to super speed is that the ability to make a split-second decision and not think it through comes with the bonus that no one else will be fast enough to stop you.

So, Marinette made what was possible the worst decision possible then several others to follow.

First, she grabbed Damian by the robin suit he had no right to wear and ran. Ran right up the side of the Batcave wall. The brat still grasped firmly in her had yet to register what was happening as he was hang securely from the rafters of the Batcave.

Marinette proceeded to run as fast as she could out of the Batcave and to her room. She practically flew through her room grabbing anything she through she’d need. A change of clothes: not fancy she’d need to blend in, retail only. Her phone had GPS so she couldn’t take that, but she’d taken her wallet and credit card for emergencies. A shoe box under her bed held her most prized possessions it was wrapped up in the cloths she selected and placed in her school bag. A quick dash in her bathroom and she had a hairbrush and hair ties.

Less then 2 seconds later she was down in the kitchen grabbing a butter knife, fork, spoon, bowl and one of the old tea towels. Finally, she shoved in whatever canned food she could fit in the bag and race off into the night before her father had time to get Damian down from the ceiling let alone out of the cave.

Marinette just kept running. Past Gotham and dark clouds overhead. Past the familiar landscape and city until the air no longer smelled like the home she’d always known. She wasn’t sure how long she’d run or how far she’d got but when she did finally stop, she had not idea where she was.

In the middle of a field, corn probably, with seemingly no one for miles around.

It was then that the weight of what happened caught up to her.

She’d attacked Damian.

She’d grabbed her thing.

She’d run away from home.

A moment later and she realise she’d grabbed enough to be prepared to run away from home. How had she gone from never having a single thought on the matter to single-handedly planning her escape in a matter of nanoseconds. She’d never thought of running away before. Had she?

‘Breathe Marinette just breath.’ She told herself thankful for Alfred, who would be so disappointed in her ri- No, no thinking about that right now.

Marinette seemed to have wondered further in her scattered thoughts, at super or normal speed she had no idea. Regardless she was now at the edge of the field, a barn to her left and a farmhouse a while to her right. She was on a farm then. That was of absolutely no help to her right now. Helpful would be a roof over her head. That and a place to rest. She was tired, she’d never run that fast that long.

Marinette knew she could no wake up early to save her life, tired-as-Marinette obviously did not know that and thought she could get away with sleeping in the barn for the night and leave before anyone found her.

‘What could go wrong?’ Marinette thought as she quite literally hit the hay piled in the corner of the barn. Don’t ask how she got in the barn, she’s a bat, and you should never questions a bat’s ability to break into anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pop quiz, who do we know in the DC universe who lives on a farm. Hmmmm.
> 
> Side note you should never ask what could go wrong that is asking for trouble. Do not even think about it


	11. A day in the life of Clark Kent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for note posting earlier I honestly lost track of time.  
> That and a lack of inspiration lead to this belayed chapter.  
> sorry again, Tashtag  
> P.s. When did I get 280 kudos, HoW dId ThIs HaPpEn?  
> p.p.s Enjoy

There are a lot of things Clark Kent has come to expect from life.

He expects that he can pick up an ear of corn and accidentally pull up the whole stalk. He expects when he’s running late on his morning chores or wants to go a little faster, he’ll suddenly end up on the other side of the farm. He also expects that no matter how clumsy or stupid he’s being he’ll never have so much as a bruise to show for it.

Needless to say, after 7 years of weirdness there was very little that would surprise 10-year-old Kent.

Apparently finding a random girl sleeping in the barn was one of them.

His morning had consisted at getting up at dawn as usual, grabbing a quick bite from the kitchen, saying good morning to Ma and Pa and going out to start his chores only to find a tiny girl curled up on the hay.

Was this some kind of joke. Clark was pretty sure it wasn’t April. This was so weird.

Torn between getting his parents and waking the sleeping girl, his ma made the decision for him. “Clark are you okay in there.”

Clark looked to the tiny girl looking for any signs of her waking. Now that he looked closer Clark swore, he’d seen her before, somewhere, but he couldn’t place it.

Clark was so deep in his concentration he failed to notice his mother’s approaching footsteps until she was right on top of him. “Oh, my word. Clark get your father; he’ll want to see this.”

Clark obediently sped off; the girl was clearly asleep, but he didn’t want to miss a second of this.

* * *

The first thing Marinette felt as she began emerging from drowsiness was pain. Not I been stabbed and I’m dying pain, more I slept on the floor with Jason because my beds too small for both of us and I’m feeling it the morning after pain. Which was weird because she hadn’t done that since Jason died and her bed was far to comfortable for her to be feeling like this.

Marinette opened her eyes and saw blunt yellow straw were she expected bright pink sheets.

Memories of the night before came flooding back. Right, she ran away. Why did she think that was a good idea again? Because ~~Dad~~ Bruce and Damian were ganging up on her.

She broke into the barn and fell asleep on a thing of hay, if she remembered correctly. She should leave before she’s found.

A quick blink of her eyes showed that way no longer a possibility.

“AHH!”

Well shit.

* * *

Whoever said watching a girl you found in your family’s barn, as she slept on a pile of hay was weird had undersell in the awkward factor dramatically.

Clark sill could shake the feeling that he knew her from somewhere. He leaned in a little closer, as if proximity would somehow make things clearer. What he hadn’t expected was for her to open her eyes at that exact moment.

The resulting scream mad that quite clear.

Clark continued to stumble backward in shock resulting in his tripping over a rake that had been left on the ground. In an attempt to not accidently super-stomp the thing into splinters he ended up tripping over his own two feet into one of the posts (I’m working off the barn from Smallville). Simply thankful he’d managed to not knock/snap the beam yet again he failed to account for his surroundings. So, to finish off with a bang a metal bucket fell off the walking platform above and onto his head with a resounding clang.

Damn his powers making him so clumsy.

Through the metal surround his ear he her an unfamiliar voice call out

“Are you Ok?”

‘Must be the girl’ thought to himself realising that his series of clumsiness would probably have hurt a normal person. Just as well he wasn’t normal. N ow all he had to do was try and play this off like it didn’t hurt much. A task that would be infinitely easier if he actually knew what it meant to be hurt. It was a little hard to imitate a feeling you’d never felt before.

Clark began to take the offending bucket off his head. The scene hadn’t changed much except the girl was now standing instead of lying down, she also seems only a fraction shorter then himself. She was probably about his age then. He observed her as he stood up. Taking in as many details as possible as if one would lead him to place the face.

The girl was puzzling, she couldn’t be local. Her clothes were to clean and unworn. Must all the kids he went to school with, had to the sixth hand-me-downs. Clark was pretty sure the shirt he was wearing right now had once belonged to his Dad.

Maybe she was a relative of someone he knew. Black hair that had a sheen to it almost blue and blue bell eyes that seem to be studying him just as he was her? Had he even seen that combo before? How common were black hair and blue eyes? Like aside from looking in a mirror, because he didn’t count unless this girl also, by some miracle, processed super strength and speed there was simple no way they could be related.

* * *

Marinette had been having somewhat of a different thought process.

‘He has dark hair and blue eyes; father must never meet him. Lord knows I already have too many brothers.’

* * *

The pair descended into what seemed to be a staring match as the mentally took apart one another. After all could anyone expect any less from the daughter of the bat and future top reporter at the daily planet.

“I don’t suppose you two would like to come inside for breakfast now.”

The stares were halted only to see Mrs Kent, who’d come in to check on Clark and to see if their guest had woken up yet.

* * *

Marinette moved first. Stepping backward to grab her pack as she spoke. “N-n-no thanks. I-I’ll just b-be on m-my way”. ‘Damn I thought I’d kicked that stupid stutter by now’

“Sorry to have bothered you.” She spoke as she began training her eyes on the barn door ready to leave. ‘Better. Now let’s see if I can’t get out of her without making an even biggest fool of myself shall we.’

Her plan was foiled as the woman stepped in front of her arms wide.

“Nonsense, you look half-starved to death.” Running at superspeed tended to have that affect. effect “I wouldn’t feel right letting you fend for yourself. Come along.” There was no point arguing the woman reminded her of Alfred and mostly like, also like Alfred, she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

‘Looks like I’m not getting out of here any time soon. Farther is going to kill me when I get home. Damian would no doubt love to help him.’

* * *

The look of defeat left no doubt in Martha’s mind.

There was no stopping Martha Kent from adopting this little girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now is the time to submit ideas of krytonian shenanigans, I'll try to include what I can.  
> also side note who thinks I should make these two pen pals when Marinette goes back home, eventually


	12. What is my Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Marinette and suspicious  
> Marinette is so confused by country life  
> Clark is so confused by Marinette  
> Martha Kent is a mother hen

Marinette could think on many things considering the circumstances as they were; she’d broken in to some random barn had accidently slept in – as if she ever could manage to wake up on time – and been discovered by a young boy and a woman who were most likely the owner of said barn.

Among the possible outcomes was most definitely the scream of surprise upon being found, the boy who found her had seemed an even clumsier then her. This might not be Gotham, but Marinette was 90% sure, movies were unreliable at best, that the in country your just as likely to be shot at for trespassing on a farm as you are to be mugged in the streets of her home.

Could she really call it that anymore?

“You coming?” called the boy dragging her from her thoughts. This was ridiculous the guy who’d just tripped over himself trying to get away from her, was now smiling and beckoning her into his home. HaD tHe WoRlD gOnE nUtS.

You Don’t Invite Strangers Into Your Home. COMON SENSE PEOPLE. Did the country make you stupid? Next you were going to tell her people left their front doors open and cars unlocked.

In summary there were many ways this could have ended in Marinette’s mind, but none of them included pancakes.

Yet here she sat at a random table, with random people and pancakes. Could this day get any weirder?

With Marinette’s luck probably.

“So,” the older man, probably the husband/father Marinette’s inner detective supplied, started then seemed to pause unsure of how to continue “Martha tells me she found you in the barn.”

Marinette remained silent in the hope that they drop the subject and she could slip away and figure out how to get home from there. Could she even call the manor home anymore?

Marinette had completely zoned out of the conversation while the panic in her head built.

What if I can never go back.

What if father hates me? What if Dick never wants to talk to me again? What Damian starts attacking Tim again?

“Marinette!”

Marinette snapped out of her spiralling and was struck with a thought. She cautiously raised her head to the boy of her right. “How did you know my name?”

The boy looked confused for a moment, a glace at his parents said they were curious as to how he’d come across the information before them. After a moment the boy simply responded, “It’s stitched into your bag.”

His calm response cause Marinette to grab at her bag only to find her name stitched there clear as day. Sh*t. She must have grabbed the wrong bag. She’d just have to live with it now.

“Are you Ok?” the boy asked, concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine.” Marinette supplied calmly. “I just got lost in thought.” The truth was always easier to keep track of but the whole story would raise eyebrows. Half truths it is. The Bat’s specialty.

The woman spoke up this time, “is there any one we can call for you Marinette. Surely your parents must be worried. Do you know their number?”

This family officially made no sense. First, they invite a stranger inside, then they feed said stranger now they appear to be showing genuine concern, for a complete stranger who broke into there barn. Was Marinette certain she wasn’t dreaming.

Right she still needed to answer. “Thanks for the offer but that’s not necessary.”

Marinette got up having finished her pancakes sometime during this weird morning. Alfred would shoot her if he knew she’d been cordial with people who shown her such kindness, no matter how unfathomable. “Thank you for breakfast, but I better get going.”

The father made the move this time “Hang on a minute there Marinette.” His voice commanding but gentle. “Do you have somewhere you’re planning on going? A relative you could stay with?”

This family’s concern was going to be the death of her. “I’m fine really.” She supplied as she grabbed her bag “I just really needed to clear my head last night, I’m probably just gonna wander around till I’m ready to head home.”

The husband gave his wife a look and Marinette knew there was no way she was leaving. That was the same look Dick got when he went into mother hen mode. She was a bout to be wrapped up in bubble wrap and cotton wool, until they were sure she was safe. Whether literally, like when she got home from school the day Marinette’s class had been interrupted by a villain attack, or figuratively like whenever Dick felt like it.

Nope Marinette had no hope of leaving unless she super sped out of here right now and with 3 people watching her every move that ain’t about to happen any time soon.

* * *

All Clark could say about this morning was that is was weird well and truly weird. He’d never seen someone so jumpy. He’d seen her name on her bag and said just as much at the table, yet Marinette seemed as though she hadn’t realised the name was there. Had she forgotten, it looked like a school bag so unless she had a dozen or something Clark couldn’t see how that was possible, to forget what something you used every day looked like.

Clark wondered some more as he walked along side Marinette on their way into town. Marinette had said she had nothing in mind for the day, so Ma had figured Clark could hang out with her thinking she might be more comfortable opening up to someone her own age. Beside due to Clarks abilities he didn’t have the chance to make friends often.

That was how the two ended up doing a quick walk about town. To Clark everything looked normal, Marinette seemed to disagree. She eyes were wondering everywhere taking in every little detail, she kept looking up as if expecting for the buildings to be taller. ‘She must not be from around here’ he thought, ‘Maybe she’s a city girl.’. Clark really hoped he was wrong on that last one, the closest city was Metropolis and that was at least 2 hours by car on a good day. He’d hate to think of how long someone who have to walk. ‘Especially if they didn’t have my speed.’ He thought ruefully.


	13. oh Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Clark bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a double length on account of I made the mistake of letting a friend read my story and she complained that the chapters were short, so there!!  
> Also for those who are still confused Marinette and Clark are both like 10ish

‘This is too good to be true’ thought Marinette as walked around town with the boy who’d found her this morning, or as she’d heard his mum call him Clark. This entire town was really tripping Marinette out, it was all so bright and sunny, and everyone was smiling but in a good way and not the Joker hit me with laughing gas kind of way.

It was honestly kinda refreshing. Marinette still watched every alley and shadow for signs of trouble, but she also took the chance to take in the beauty of the little town. It was so different to Gotham; it lacked the majestic flare but made up for it in quaint and simplistic detailing. The designer was inspired, unfortunately she’d left her design book back at the manor. While she might want to get her ideas down before she forgot them, she didn’t think she was ready to face her father just yet.

“So, what do you think of Smallville?” Clark asked out of the blue, obviously trying to start a conversation. Marinette was desperate enough to get her mind off home to go along with whatever he wanted to talk about. Plus, Marinette could file away any other information he let slip, She might not know where Smallville was but at least now she knew what name she should look up when she got the chance.

“What makes you think I haven’t been here before,” she replied, if she was gonna be stuck here she should at least figure out the intelligence of the people around here. Clark might not be Tim but understanding his thought process would be interesting.

“Because you look like a kid on Christmas trying to take everything in at once, plus you keep looking up like your expecting to see a skyscraper. We don’t have those round here.” Well colour Marinette impressed. This guy would make a good detective or maybe a reporter, but in Marinette experience reporters also had to get up in people’s business and Marinette couldn’t see Clark doing anything to make anyone uncomfortable.

“Ok, you got me. You always lived here then Mr. Smarty-pants.”

Clark took a moment, he seemed unsure how to respond. ‘Huh,’ Marinette thought, she hadn’t seen any other kids on the farm maybe he wasn’t used to the type of banter she shared so easily with Dick and Tim.

“Yeah, since I was three.” That was intriguing.

“What happened when you were three?” Marinette asked generally curious, most people in Gotham never shared personal details like this, even Tim took ages to open up and still struggled with it. Everyone here just seemed so trusting and easy going, it was strange.

“I was adopted, Ma and Pa brought me to the farm, and I’ve been there ever since.”

Marinette was somewhat stunned she didn’t actually expect to have anything in common with the country boy. She expected the similarities to kinda stop at black hair and blue eyes.

“How ‘bout you if you’re not from around here where’d you grow up.” Ah now that made more sense. Classic information gathering offer up a little of your self feel more relatable then slam home the million-dollar question. There was no way Marinette was gonna fall for that trick.

That and there was no way she could explain running from Gotham to wherever Smallville was over night. While Clark’s first thought probably wouldn’t be superspeed she didn’t want to risk it.

“Similar story actually, When I was about three, I was adopted by my dad I’ve lived with him since.” Not a lie she just failed to mention the fact that her Dad was Bruce Wayne nor that she was from Gotham. Understanding the need to lie didn’t mean having to like it. Half truths always worked better for her anyways. It does not like he’d notice or anything

Clark stopped and let out a breathy laugh.

“You got to teach me how you can make it feel like you’re sharing so much but actually giving me nothing to work with.”

Marinette froze. How did that happen? This guy was 10 maybe 11 MAX and he’d grown up in the middle of nowhere and he’d somehow seen right though a girl raised by the world’s greatest detective.

Clark continued on “seriously, I could annoy Pete for days if I could do that.’

“Pete?” Marinette asked, panicked brain begging for a change of topic. ‘Segway to a new topic by making him correct you’ her brain screamed. “that your brother’s name or something?”

“Or something,” Clack half laughed “he might as well be with how long we’ve been friends though.”

‘Crisis averted. For now.’ a traitorous part of her mind supplied.

The two walked around until about midday when they turned back for lunch. On the way back they went past a sign proudly proclaiming, “welcome to Smallville Kansas”. Marinette just had to stop and stare, she missed the sign on their way into town seeing as they’d taken a different route. The clarification that they were in Kansas was completely lost on her, she instead focussed of the text beneath.

“The meteor capital of the world”

Marinette may not have been obsessive about her origins like her father had once been, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t interested. Meteor - a small body of matter from outer space that enters the earth's atmosphere, becoming incandescent as a result of friction and appearing as a streak of light. Marinette had memorised the definition years ago.

“What’s with the sign?” trying to sound casual and failing.

Clark too a moment to look up before he answered. “It’s because of the meteor shower,” he explained, “’bout 7 years ago they started coming down, Ma and Pa say it only lasted a little while, but it caught the town completely unprepared. They’re not sure how many meteors there were but almost all of them landed in Smallville.”

Marinette stopped listening after ‘7 years ago’ that was when she crashed to earth. Father had said there was a meteor shower, but he also said that her pod/ship was the only thing to land in Gotham. She’d never thought to ask where anything else landed.

Marinette might have a reason to stick around Smallville after all.

* * *

Marinette was given a simple sandwich for lunch while Martha and Johnathan Kent pulled Clark aside to talk.

“So how was your walk around town? was Marinette still jumpy?”

If there was any doubt in Clarks mind that his mum had all but officially adopted Marinette. There wasn’t anymore. “She seemed fine, a little guarded but fine.”

“Guarded how son?” his dad asks while cleaning his hand on a towel.

“She just tensed up a little whenever the conversation was about her homelife. She lives somewhere with a adopted father and that’s all I got” Clark saw his parent tense at that.

Ma was the first to speak up “Maybe we should call the police Johnathan, if that girl’s being hurt, we need to do something.”

“Now Martha we don’t know anything for sure.” Clark watch as his father, calm down his Ma and then turn to face him, “Clark I know you want to help, but if your mother is right, then the girl’s been through enough. I want you to spend the afternoon doing your chores, if Marinette wants to come with you, she can, if not your mother and I will keep an eye on her. We’ll give the girl some space and see what happens ok.”

* * *

None of the Kents were aware that Marinette was listening from the other room. It’s not like she had super hearing or anything but being that bat’s daughter meant you pick things up. Even if Marinette herself had minimal interest in vigilantism, she been immersed in that world for years. Profiling, lock picking and eavesdropping, they were essential tricks of the trade and second nature at this point.

While Marinette was surprised that their gut reaction was to assume abuse, after some contemplation she could see why it’d make sense. Honestly, she’d count Damian as an abusive, but she was sure the Kent’s thought it was her father not her brother she’d yet to mention.

Brother. Ha. Marinette could barely see herself applying the term to the brat. Marinette was all for second chances, but she also believed that someone had to want to change. Damian clearly had no intention of changing.

Marinette also considered for a moment the options they intended to provide her with for the afternoon. Go with Clark, Martha or John. There was always option 3 which was to run while they weren’t looking. Marinette felt her gut twist just thinking about it, she might not have known them long but the Kents had truly done her a favour. Marinette would have to find some way to get home, but she wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. Alfred had taught her better manners then that.

Thinking a moment back to her options for the afternoon, she wanted to stay with Clark. Marinette wasn’t entirely sure why, but Clark felt familiar, dare she say safe. She dismissed it before as familiarity again the black hair and blue eyes they shared but a nagging said it was more than that. He kidda reminded her of Dick but not really, while the two shared her brother’s sunshine personality her brother had more of a runner’s build then Clark. Tim lacked Clark’s sunny disposition and permanent smile. Father was just too closed off. Clark remined her of someone she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Hey Marinette!’ Marinette was pulled out of her thoughts by Clark. ‘It’s like Beetlejuice; I’d thought his name to many times and summoned him.’ She joked to herself. Clark continues unaware of her inner laughter, “Ma and Pa want me to get started on my chores, they wanted to know if you’d rather come with me to feed the cattle or stay with Ma while she does the washing up. Pa got some business to town.”

Marinette already knowing which she’d prefer asked “I’d like to stay with you please. So, what does feed cattle entail?”

“First off your gonna want a pair of gum boots.”

The smile on Clark’s face told her she be in for a very long and enthusiastic one-sided discussion.

* * *

It was well into the afternoon when Marinette and Clark had finished his chores. Clark had to admit it was more fun with someone else even if it meant taking ten times as long because he couldn’t use his powers. The pair of them had fed the cattle then proceeded to clean up the barn.

When the barn was cleaned the two sat down on the fencing near the port and Marinette surprised Clark by starting the conversation, not unlike he’d done all day. “I don’t know how you can do that every day; I’d be dead on my feet after a few days.”

Clark just chuckled, he’d never really thought about how hard farm work must be without powers, maybe he didn’t give his parents as much credit as they deserved. After all, they often did just as much if not more than him every day without fail. In a way Clark figure that made then even more super then him.

“You get used to it I guess,” he replied hiding a laugh at the irony of it all. “You get less clumsy over time too.” He added as more of an afterthought, and a subtle dig.

Marinette gave a full belly laugh, “Ha, you mean like when you tripped on a bucket this morning?”

This time Clark was prepared “Or when you slipped on a cow pat.” He retorts found Marinette blushing red as a tomato. “I told you you’d need those gum boot.” Reminding Marinette of her near insistence that she needn’t wear them because it killed her ‘inner-fashion designer’, Clark had thought it was hilarious but mostly it solidified to him that Marinette was most definitely as city kid. In the country, purpose overruled appearance almost every time.

Marinette punched him in the arm, he wasn’t sure how hard, invulnerability does that to you, “Ok you were right. So, do you guys have to do that every day?”

“Yeah sometimes you mix it up but for the most part you work the land, care for the livestock and fix anything that broke and that just about sums it up.”

Marinette sat there for a moment contemplating “Do you plan on taking over the farm when you get older?” she asked hesitantly.

“I’m not sure,” Clark replied honestly, “I guess I could do something else but I’m not sure what. How about you? You got anything planned for when your older?”

Marinette sat there contemplating for a minute, she looked like she was debating whether or not she should tell him. Clark was about to give up and go inside when - “Fashion,” she answered. “I’m really into fashion, I like to design a lot and I make a few of them.”

Clark turned around honestly intrigued “So you know how to sew and stuff.”

“Yeah, but I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“actually, I do, not that good, but decent enough to patch up a shirt. Sowings a staple skill round here. No point buying new clothes when you can just fix the old ones.”

“Can you crochet and knit too?” Marinette joked.

Clark going along with the joke “Not for the life of me” admits Clark before they both burst into laughter.

Clark looked over at Marinette, she was more relived then she had been all day. Clark had the feeling they would get along just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and Yeet_369 they are not figuring this out any time in the neer future. I LIVE for the cringe
> 
> Thought for the day who do guys think would win in an adoption war Martha Kent or Bruce Wayne? I think it'd be a funny extra I haven't added one to a chapter in a while I'd love some ideas
> 
> Count Tashtag out


	14. Crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette needs a hug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's a short chapter but been busy  
> Also when th eheck did I get so many Kudos, so thankyou to everyone who left kudos, and thanks to everyone who comments you guys make my day.  
> P.s. Happy halloween

Dinner had been interesting for the Kents that night. After all Marinette was still unofficially staying with them. The two children were deep in an animated conversation on a topic John and Martha had long since lost track of. Martha wounder not for the first time if they’d made a mistake not adopting after Clark, depriving him of this deep connection shared by brothers and sisters. Martha could see the simple joy Marinette was giving Clark, simply by talking.

Martha gazed longingly at the small girl. Dismissing unwelcome thoughts from her head. They’d been luck Clark there was no way they’d get lucky again. No matter how similar the scenarios. Martha Kent just wanted to wrap both her children up in a blanket and never let go.

Martha hated that she was going to have to ruin what had been such a pleasant evening to all but interrogate Marinette about her situation. She just hoped Marinette would be ok at the end of this ordeal.

Martha watched Marinette as she calmly dried the dishes as Martha washed. ‘How does one even start a conversation like this.’

“Your staring,” Marinette stated so bluntly it bordered curt. ‘Apparently like that’

“Sorry, I just can’t stop thinking about your family.” Martha replied honestly, grateful that the girl was being held captive by her task. “Surely they miss you?” ‘Please let them miss her’

Marinette stiffened just continuing to stare at the plate she had already finished drying.

“Marinette”, Martha spoke softly, placing the dish down and gently placing Marinette’s hand in her own. Removing the dish from her hands. She placed her other hand on the girls check, bring Marinette’s face to face with her. Martha’s heart nearly broke. Tear were beginning to well in the little girls’ eyes.

“Marinette do you feel safe here?” Marinette nodded.

“Can you trust that we only want to help you?” another nod.

“Can you tell me what happened Marinette?” nothing. Martha tried again “Marinette if someone hurt you, you need to tell somebody.” Still nothing.

“Marinette, I promise the Police can keep you safe for your father, if you just tell them what’s wrong”

“My dad’s not the problem.” Marinette mumbled.

“Marinette” ‘Please let me help you’ she wanted to cry. The moment of silence that passed felt like an eternity.

“I said my Dad’s not the problem” Marinette spoke, softly but audible.

‘is that a good or a bad thing?’

“It’s Damian.” Marinette spoke somewhat surer of herself.

“Marinette. Who’s Damian?”

* * *

She didn’t need to tell Martha everything, but it felt right. Explaining how her adoptive father’s biological son showed up and tried to hurt her and the next youngest brother. How her father asked her to set a good example for her ‘brother’. How she’d lashed out at Damian and been sent to her room. Finally, she explained how she’d grabbed whatever she thought she needed shoved it in a bag and ran.

There was a comfort to Mrs Kent’s arms. ‘I feel safe’ she realised. Marinette hadn’t been hugged much these days. Dick lived a city away, and even if Marinette could be there in a flash, he had work. Tim wasn’t used to much physical affection, hugs did more to set him on edge than confront. Father was the last person you went to for comfort.

Marinette wasn’t quite sure when the two of them had slid to the floor, but there they were. Marinette no longer bothering to hold back her tears and Martha gently comforting the tiny girl.

Marinette felt as if great weight had been lifted.

While Marinette knew she was loved by her Father he rarely showed it like this. Most definitely not with an action of comfort so definitive in purpose.

Unlike her brothers Marinette knew nothing of her mother, nor had she ever had anyone attempt to fill the position for her before. It felt nice.

With a final push of strength Marinette half sobbed, “What do I do now?”

* * *

While Johnathan Kent had known what his wife intended to do, he hadn’t expected to walk in on the pair as they were. Marinette sleeping in Martha’s arms, dried tears still streaking her face. His wife’s own face telling him there was no way Marinette was leaving anytime soon.

Knowing this he helped Martha lift the exhausted girl’s sleeping frame and carried her to the spare bed he and Clark prepared.

“Looks like we got some work to do.”

Extra (non-cannon)

Bruce: You can't adopt her, I adopted her 7 yrs ago

Martha: I reject your reality and substitute my own

Alfred: perhaps we can arrange a joint custody agreement

Bruce: thank you Alfred (thinks'at least someone is on my side')

Alfred: Hush now Master Bruce it is rude to speak over the adults 

Alfred: (turns to Martha) now about that joint custody, perhaps you and your husband an take her on weekday and I can have weekends

Bruce: (watches as Martha and Alfred walk off) What just happened?


	15. Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce feels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like everyone was asking for this

It was rare that Batman didn’t have a solution to a problem. Bruce Wayne different story, he rarely knew what to do in any situation involving his children when they weren’t robin.

Yeah Bruce way pretty sure even considering training your kids to be vigilantes permanently disqualified him from any parent of the year awards.

But this. This took the cake as possibly the single, biggest mistake he’d made to date. He’d driven his own daughter to run away.

How did he mess up so bad? A question he’d asked a billion times, and still had no answer for.

It had taken Bruce 3 minutes to get Damian off of the ceiling, and a further 10 to placate the boy enough to send him to bed, with the promise they’d deal with it in the morning when they were rested. 13 minutes. 13 precious minutes in which his only daughter had methodically grabbed her things and ran.

That was an even scarier thought, methodical. Bruce knew from previous experience with Mad-Rush-Marinette that when going at that speed she would rely more on instinct then thought. Marinette had purposefully grabbed only what she needed, she’d even left her precious sketch book behind, and not taken anything that could be used to find her save her credit card. How long had she thought this though, the manor’s cameras showed her moving at superspeed around her room and the pantry, never slowing down.

How long had this been happening?

How long had his little girl been planning on running away?

How badly he had failed for her to do so.

Which is what had led him here. In the Batcave reviewing the footage of his own home scoring for any clues to his daughter’s where abouts in the days leading up to that night. Rather than hints and leads Bruce was confronted with just how much he’d missed till it was obvious where he failed. The small jabs between Marinette and Damian at first appeared sibling like, as they had when they occurred. The footage renewed that train of thought as Bruce watch is daughter’s patience slowly be worn down.

Bruce’s attention had been divided on so much lately. As Bruce Wayne the company had been keeping him occupied, trying to fabricate a story to introduce Damian to the public, training Tim to work alongside him had all taken up so much of his time.

Don’t even get him started of his time as Batman. A new player had entered then scene about three years ago and he still had yet to have a name or face for the man. Now this mysterious man had managed a near monopoly on Gotham’s drug rings. To do a complete 180 it was around that time drug deals in and around Gotham’s few primary schools completely halted. A man who had risen to power on the blood of his victims drew the line at selling drugs to children. Bruce as a parent of a primary school was somewhat relieved while Batman was working overtime as he had another murderer to catch.

Bruce was not exaggerating in saying he had not been all there these last few weeks. But he’d never imagined this.

Bruce nearly had a heart attack when he saw Damian thrusting a dagger straight at Marinette’s heart, at that time oblivious of the girl’s invulnerability.

He a Damian seriously needed to talk.

* * *

Damian had been thoroughly annoyed upon his father’s revision of the last few weeks seeing as it had landed him confined to his room. With no weapons. How was that fair. It was hardly his fault that the little mutant had run. It benefited him though, now there was one less obstacle between him and his goal.

However, surpassing that hurdle may not have been worth the now constant supervision he was receiving from either Grayson, Pennyworth if not both when ever he left his room.

He also found himself board, it was not a feeling he’d even grown accustom to. Every day with the league had been filled with training and preparation. Currently his days were filled with blank walls and the disapproving looks from whom ever was watching him.

If Damian had actually cared what his father’s brood thought of him, this punishment _might_ carry weight.

“Damian, Master Bruce has asked to see you,” Pennyworth stood in the doorway.

What could his father possibly want now?

* * *

Dick hadn’t seen Bruce this upset in a while. Probably not since Jason died now that he thought about it.

Dick couldn’t blame him though. It didn’t matter how many superpowers she had or how many times they told themselves she’d be alright, They still worried. Marinette was 10. 10-year-old were not supposed to run scared from their home. Yet in Gotham it happened all the time. Richard just never thought it’d happen here.

Had he been that bad of a brother?

Had he been that reproachable?

The security footage had made it clear this had been happening since Damian arrived and yet even after comparing notes none of the self-proclaimed detectives had noticed a thing. It took them going over the past fortnight’s worth of footage for them to understand just their little sunshine had been subjected to.

Tim and Dick had been following up every lead they could but thus far not a single traffic camera had caught Marinette leaving Gotham, nor Budhaven. Marinette didn’t have any friends outside of Gotham like him and Tim so that didn’t help much.

Bruce didn’t think they knew about the subdermal trackers he’d injected into each of them, usually it’d be his first port of call in a kidnap scenario. This time however their little sister’s invulnerability was not in there favour.

As the first Robin Dick had written the book on escaping the manor when you were in a fowl mood. Getting out wasn’t the hard part. It was getting back in, and for someone like Marinette would never been one to break the rules much to begin with, it was going to kill her trying to find a way back home.

“If she even considers the manor home anymore.”

‘Oh cupcake. Where are you?’


	16. Home Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just the chapter title. that's it

Martha Kent’s Mum-sense was tingling the morning after Marinette’s breakdown. There was no way she was handing over Marinette without at least meeting the man who thinks it’s ok for children to attack each other with knives.

Yeah Martha was defiantly going to have a long chat to that man when she found him.

**_‘Tracker stationary.’_ **

Martha buried her further into her thoughts as she made a simple breakfast for her family. That she at least knew how to deal with.

**_‘infrared shows 3 bodies, adult male is in barn, exercise caution.’_ **

Martha smiled warmly as she watched her beloved son walked down the stairs. “Mornin’ Mom.”

“Morning Clark.” She kissed him on the forehead, enjoying the simple act. ‘is Marinette awake yet”

“Nah she’s still asleep.”

**_‘Target is priority, failure is NOT an option.’_ **

Not surprising if yesterday was any indication of the girl’s sleeping habits. Martha honesty wouldn’t be surprised if that was her father’s doing as well.

Maybe he was a night owl.

**_‘Blood kept to a minimum. No body count if possible’_ **

That or Marinette just really wasn’t a morning person. ‘Or not’ Martha thought as she watched the girls also descended the stairs mid yawn. She opened the curtains in the hope the flood of light would help the girl wake.

**_‘Visual confirmation, target is present.’_ **

Instead Marinette flinched like a vampire ducking from the onslaught of light. Followed by and onslaught of laughter and her patented glare. Martha was pretty sure Marinette could give that vigilante form Gotham a run for his money with that glare.

“How did you sleep Marinette?” Martha asked as she reached for a large bread knife. Scrabbled eggs on toast coming right up.

“Not bad, thank you Mrs Kent for letting me stay the night again.”

**_‘Target acquired.’_ **

“None of this Mrs Kent nonsense Marinette you can call me Martha.” Turning away from the uncut loaf to face Marinette.

Clark similarly hugged Marinette from behind in a show of support.

**_‘situation has escalated MOVE NOW!’_ **

Things were going to get better.

Marinette could feel it as she shifted carefully into superspeed. Watching one perfect moment stretch into a thousand.

A moment that proceeded to shatter into a thousand pieces. Like the thousand pieces of shattered glass headed straight for her and Clark.

Marinette acted on instinct shoving him down, perhaps a little too hard, and covering his body with her own.

She felt the shards penetrate her shirt only to shatter even further upon contact with her steely skin.

Marinette, certain they where safe from the threat of glass, turned to face the more pressing threat of whatever of whomever broke that window.

Superspeed again slowed everything down, she took in every detail, her emotions loose across the spectrum refusing to settle on just one.

The relief, Clark was safe.

The sadness, he was scared, terrified even.

The anger, the small glass shards embedded Martha’s arm, how dare they do this to such a kind woman.

The fear, the intruder possibly just saw the glass break on contact with her back, she might never go home now.

Then the determination, she was going to get home to her family, no psychopath was going take her family away from her again.

Finally, her emotions settled, as she turned to face the attacker, she channels the righteous fury worthy of the bat, ready to fight whatever demon stood before her.

Before she just stopped.

WhAt ThE #@$% iS hApPeNiNg HeRe.

* * *

Clark had never been more terrified in his life. He’d never had a random stranger barging into his home before either. ‘They’ve found me’, was his first thought. He felt himself shift into superspeed. The panic getting the better of him. ‘What if they take me away? What if they hurt me? What if they hurt my parents?’ Clarks spiralling thoughts broken only when he was shoved down and covered by Marinette. ‘Even at superspeed she reacted faster then I did’, he thought just before he hit the floor, snapping him back into a normal speed.

Clark turns around as fast as he can without superspeed, it was hard to do on demand and even harder when he was stressed out.

He wasn’t sure what he expected to see but it wasn’t this.

A man in a biker jacket and a . . . was that a domino mask. Ok? Offically questioning this man’s fashion sense, just not aloud. The guy had a gun at his side. Clark knew he didn’t get hurt much, read ever, but that didn’t mean that right now was the time to test his limits. That was a gun for crying out loud. While there was a slim chance, he _might, MIGHT,_ be bullet proof, Ma and Marinette had just about a 0% chance of suddenly being bullet proof.

‘Marinette!’ Clark cursed himself for forgetting that Marinette had already put herself between him and the danger.

She just stood there motionless; he couldn’t see her face, who knew how absolutely terrified she must be. Clark saw the man’s steely stare shift from him to Marinette.

He was here for her?

Clark knew Marinette had run away and honestly Clark could very much understand the urge to run away from a guy like this. He was huge. There was just one nagging thought in the back of his head ‘Why isn’t he attacking? Why isn’t she moving?’ not that he was complaining, the lack of gunfire was a very good thing. He was just confused.

The guy had literally barrelled through the window and was now standing as motionless as the girl he was staring at. What is sense. Not this that’s for sure.

Could this day get any more confusing?

Marinette mouthed something to the stranger. Clark couldn’t decide is she was scared or crying. But whatever she said he hesitantly nodded back at her.

If Clark didn’t know better, he’d say Marinette had run at superspeed, because Clark could swear, he blinked, and she was hugging the stranger. The tiny wisp of a girl Marinette hugging the massive gun wielding stranger.

Clack had many questions but one stood out what’s a ‘Jay-Jay’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yep Jason is back and I can't wait to figure out how he gets out of this one. I feel Like Martha should tear into him for being an idiot. sad thing is I fell like Marinette would join in because the Kents are family now and no one messes with family not even family.  
> would love feedback/ideas or concepts you'd like me to explore  
> Tashtag Out


	17. Pulling a Bruce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where it takes Jason forever to realise he's been adopted yet again

Okay, so there were many ways Jason pictured this day going. Sitting down with Johnathan, Martha and Clark Kent and his little sister. Yeah no. Alfred would probably scream blue murder if they ever tried to have a family meal on the couch like this back at the manor.

You’d like an explanation.

Yeah, you’d probably need that to understand what was happening here. Well is all started a long time ago.

3 days Prior.

If Jason had to describe his world in three words, he’d have the pick. F***. The. Batman. Words to live by in his book. Words he practically did live by.

Honestly less than a few months in Gotham and he had just about the entire drug empire under his thumb. Honestly, was that so hard Bruce. A few months to accomplish what the Batman had tried and failed to do for years. Years.

That thought alone could keeping him running all night.

Yeah that was before Jason’s blood froze solid. He would have broken his phone had it not been the lifeline he’d so desperately needed.

Marinette was in trouble. Jason had a tracker in her favourite school bag – yes, he kept track of his little sister, stop judging – a tracker that showed pixie-pop was in Kansas, Smallville and that she had been for the last 12 hours. What the F*** was his little sister doing in the middle of nowhere on her own.

Ok Jason might also have hacked into the Batcave, Dick seriously needed to change his password, ‘I’m Batman’ was just too easy, but that does NOT mean he cared about whatever hole Bruce had dug himself into. Also had Bruce gotten ANOTHER ONE. Seriously where was Bruce getting these replacements from.

Had he really meant that little to his former mentor. No! he couldn’t afford to think like that right now. Not while Marinette was potentially in danger.

Whatever happened that night, Marinette must have been pissed. Jason couldn’t think of any other reason for Marinette to hang someone by their cape to the ceiling of the Batcave. Under other circumstances he might laugh at the attic.

Right now, he had to concentrate on finding Marinette and making sure she was okay. The Marinette he knew would have run to Dick in Budhaven or if she was really desperate perhaps to Roy and Oliver in Star city. The chances she’d leave the city by her own choice. The number of kids who get picked up on the streets of Gotham is no joke. Maybe Red Hood should take out the human traffickers when he finished with the drug trade.

Bruce was going to have to have a bloody good answer for this one. Being a bumbling idiot with emotions was not going to be good enough here.

The Red Hood didn’t bother leaving someone in charge. Gotham could handle itself for the few days it would take him to find Marinette and kick her kidnapper’s ass. If it couldn’t then he’d simply take back the city as he had the first time.

So that was how Jason found himself outside of a quaint farmhouse looking through an infrared scope.

He looked down at his phone. The tracking app had not been closed since he receive that first alert.

 _‘Tracker stationary.’_ He thought to himself. ‘good, that meant that she was here.’

 _‘infrared shows 3 bodies, adult male is in barn, exercise caution.’_ Jason had slipped back into old training far too easily for his liking. Continuing along the same vain he reminded himself how this would be so very different from his last few months _‘Target is priority, failure is NOT an option and blood kept to a minimum. No body count if possible.’_ Marinette would not see him like that. He had not spent that past year avoiding Marinette to show up and kill someone in fount of her. She didn’t know he was even alive, let alone a murder. Best start with the first and build his way up to the second.

He reached up to check that the familiar domino mask was in place. Marinette would appreciate the familiar face, as if a domino would ever fool her.

Jason was snapped out of his thoughts when seeing a woman – pretty average, didn’t seem threatening but looks could always be deceiving – open the curtains. Jason looked in to see his little sister sit down wreck as if she hadn’t slept for days*. _‘Visual confirmation, target is present.”_

He switched back to the scope in the hopes he could gleam more information from the situation. It took less then a second to find Marinette amongst the figures _‘Target acquired.’_

He also most missed the blade in the ‘innocent’ woman’s hand. Key word _almost._ He definitely didn’t miss the midget holding his little sister down, as the knife was turned towards her. “Sh*t!”

‘ ** _situation has escalated MOVE NOW!’_**

And so, he had. He had literally thrown himself through the window, in the hopes of distracting the kidnappers, only to find Marinette turn around and protect the midget who was holding her down. And that said midget wasn’t a midget at all. He was a kid. A kid no older then Marinette.

Hindsight was a beautiful thing that allowed Jason to see all the sign he missed and all the ways he’d f*cked up in the past few hours alone.

After a too-short embrace with his sister. Marinette went from being a small, comfortable warmth in his arms almost snuggling into him to a complete 180 of punching him - more like poking with the district lack of super strength – and berating him for crashing into a stranger’s house with no warning looking ready to shoot the place up and anything else she felt was his fault in that moment. To be fair almost everything she said had been his fault, but Jason could see what she was really upset about. Whether she didn’t mention his death out of respect for the civilians in the room and secrete identities, or because him being alive was a hurdle she just wouldn’t tackle right now, Jason didn’t know.

He was just thankful to have his Pixie-pop back in his arms again.

Apologising had been far more difficult then he first thought. Why? Because as soon as Marinette vouched for him explaining that Jason was her brother and he’d never hurt anyone – not was not the time to debate that – they seem all to eager to forgive him. Repair a window. That was all he had to do to apologies. WHAT THE F*** IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE. Jason was so confused.

I mean Jason also offered to help remove the glass from the mother’s arm. Yeah, he’d felt like shit for that. After a long morning of awkwardness on Jason’s part, and what Jason would describe as relief for the Kents. Marinette had taken Marinette aside and told Jason the whole story including the shortened version she’d given to the Kents.

This had resulted in Jason saying he was going to kill Damian, as he learned the newest Robin’s name to be, which had resulted in Marinette scolding him, saying it was his attack on Tim that had driven her over the edge. From there the conversation hit a downward spiral as Jason responded with the points that it didn’t matter that Damian hadn’t actually killed her, trying was just as bad and also he didn’t care what the demon’s spawn did to the ‘replacement’ so long as she was Ok. Which of course had resulted in Marinette defending Tim. And yelling at her once favourite brother.

In summary both siblings got a lot of feelings of their chests and secretes, Jason’s latest hobbies included, and they were both very thankful that the Kent’s went to go work the farm and had left the two alone to talk. Civilians defiantly did not belong anywhere in that conversation.

The day had ended with another apology from Jason and an offer to help in the kitchen.

Seeing as they couldn’t be entirely sure that there were no glass fragments left and neither party wished to allow the youngest to have to fake cut themselves upon discovering residual fragments, the group ate on the couch.

Jason couldn’t help but feeling as though there was something familiar about the setting. That warm fuzzy feeling he hadn’t felt for so long. That feeling of belonging.

Wait a minute?

How did Jason Todd manage to get adopted again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * jason died before learning that Marinette did not like mornings


	18. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette goes home, Alfred is good Grampa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so so so so sorry. right after I ammend my summary to say that I try to update fornightly and I take a month to update
> 
> P.s. appologies had to edit found a typo that was driving me crazy, and realised I left out a joke I ment to put in

Marinette had to admit. This had been a weird few days, since Jason had joined the gang. The Kents, after the initial awkward first day, had opened up so quickly it was disturbing.

After the family had sat down and really talked about everything that night on the couch. Jason was now seen as the dashing big brother who come into rescue his little sister after believing she’d been kidnapped. Jason, supposedly, hadn’t know about the fight back home because he’d moved out some time prior. There were a few questions the pair of Waynes had barely found a way out of, but one didn’t come to live in the same house as Batman for several years by being a terrible liar or slow on the uptake.

So yeah. A day spent fixing broken windows. Then another two helping tend to the fields, since ‘No Martha I put that glass in your arm, I’ll do the chores’.

Yeah. There was no hope. Jason was now the golden boy. At least in the eyes of the Kents.

A very stark contrast to his life back in Gotham. That lifestyle had been a very long conversation. A conversation had tending fields, far away from any and all weapons, especially guns, Marinette had confiscated ALL the guns. Suffice it to say expletives were exchanged. And insults. And a few punches.

By the end of Jason’s second night most hostilities had ceased. Sibling love is mysterious. Many only children have attempted to understand this archaic principle. Those who watch on from the sideline envying the constant companionship and trust brothers and sisters instil in each other, will never be able to truly understand the sheer incomprehensible, murderous intent that it comes with. Needless to say, trying to explain the thought process of such a complex exchange as the one between Jason and Marinette is a pointless endeavour.

Saying goodbye to the Kents had been quite the tearjerker. Postcodes, phone numbers and promises were exchanged. Marinette also promised to send a few extra stamps for Clarks responses, Clark protested until Jason interjected saying it would be their father footing the bill and Martha encouraged the act of generosity. Jason made some throw away comment, as Marinette and Clark hugged goodbye "Honestly if not for the pigtails I wouldn't be sure which one of you I'd be taking home. You two could be twins." 

The trip home was a long and tiring. With many, many, many rants directed at both Bruce and Damian. In the end a level of understanding was reached of both members of the family.

Marinette managed to play the devil’s advocate for Bruce and vouch for the man’s morning, even if it was in his own I-really-upset-but-I’m-not-going-to-act-like-it-even-effects-me-because-I-have-to-be-the-epitone-of-emotionless-statue.

Jason played for Damian vouching that Marinette was not ready to know just what went on in that hell hole, but chances are it left the ‘blood son’ massively f*cked in the head. Making him possible more emotionally stunted the Bruce ever was. Marinette honestly struggled to see how that was possible, but Jay-Jay wouldn’t lie about that to her.

Marinette had always been rather perceptive. She could see that Jason. This Jason. The one sitting in front of her right now was not the Jason she knew. Sure there were traces of the old Jason, a glint of mischievousness in his eye of the sound of his laugh – she’d regaled him of the legendary prank war against poor Tim - but the darkness in his eyes, dare she say his soul, the anger that flared up at any mention of their father.

No Jason had changed these past few years, but he was still her brother. Nothing would, nothing could ever change that. She’d just have to learn to be a bit more careful around her brother with his newfound temper. She should probably hide all the guns when she got home too. Just to be safe.

* * *

The drive into Gotham was a silent, efficient as a familiar distrust of their surrounding settled around them almost as if they’d never left.

Gotham truly hadn’t changed the days she’d been away. Had it truly only been a week ago she’d been dealing with Damian. It was crazy to think that it took only a few days, some fresh air, some new friends, to completely change her view of the situation.

Marinette hugged her brother, any tighter and she’d be using her super strength, things had been so simple on the farm. Jason was her brother again, she had a friend who wasn’t even aware of her status as Bruce Wayne’s daughter and for the first time she felt like a normal kid.

While none of that really depended of her being in Gotham it felt as though all that was slowly slipping away, the closer they got to the manor.

Yes, Marinette still had little to no love for her, begrudgingly acknowledged, new brother but she had gained a new perspective. For that reason – and quite possibly that reason alone – Marinette was willing to give Damian another shot.

Even if that shot was pinning him against the wall and yelling some sense at him until he finally listened. Now that she thought about it that was quite likely what she’d have to end up doing.

* * *

The Manor was quiet. It had been far too quiet the past few days. Alfred had always been one to rely on but even he way struggling to come to terms with the latest string of misfortune. Marinette, the sunlight of their lives, had run off. She’d run off without warning. What did that say about him?

The old butler had always seen the young girl as a granddaughter as much as he had view Master Bruce as his own son. To learn that Marinette had felt unable to confide in him. It hurt.

It wasn’t often Alfred stood still in Wayne Manor but just this once he felt he could indulge himself in this. To still idle by the window and look out into the cool night. The light breeze filtering through the trees. The sunset reflecting off of the smooth stones of the path. The Motorbike pulling up to the gate.

Wait! What?!

Alfred could count on two hands the number of times he was caught off guard. This was one of them. The old man was questioning his need for glasses when he saw a slim, female figure dismount from behind the driver.

Alfred found himself as a loss for the last time he’d run so fast. Yet Alfred suspected he could have been the Flash and he still not have been fast enough.

Those pigtails were unmistakeable.

Marinette must have heard him coming, Alfred would swear that girl had super hearing, because no sooner was Alfred at the large front doors then a blur of blue-tinged hair ran up the meet him.

There were no words.

They weren’t needed.


	19. Tim sees a ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how the assorted memebers of the manor, minis Dick (I'll get to him), find out Marinette is back  
> and a sneak peak at what come next

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update. I just couldn't find the words, My dads says they were hiding in the attic, be that as it may  
> please enjoy my latest insanity  
> Tashtag

Marinette was so thankful Alfred had been the one to meet her at the manor. Coming home to an angry Batman would not have ended well. Not well at all.

Alfred had ferried the young girl in her old room, it was getting dark and the young ward was clearly fatigued. He did mention that they would have to talk in the morning, but both were too tired to care at the moment

The manor felt colder somehow; Not physically the temperature never really bothered Marinette, they would long since dismissed it as yet another ability of her alien genes.

The walls felt cold, devoid of life. The mansion lacked the homey feeling Marinette had taken for granted at the Kents.

This would be a long night.

* * *

This had quite possibly been the longest week Tim had ever experienced. Tim had spent every waking moment, which was considerably longer than the average thanks his inhuman coffee intake, looking over every camera he could in the manor. There had to be some hint. Some clue. Something he was missing. Something that would lead him to Marinette.

The speed, he slowed the taps down so that Marinette appeared to move at a somewhat normal speed, at which Marinette had grabbed her belonging suggested planning and forethought but Marinette had no friends outside of Gotham. Bruce had never taken her to any of his safe houses, read safe penthouses. Her computer, yes, he hacked her computer – along with Bruce and Dick, he was not alone in this invasion of privacy dam it – she was his little sister and he’s worried. Anyway, her computer showed no research into any American cities.

There was a shockingly large amount of research on Paris, but that was just for about her fashion hobby. Right?

Dianna may have been called up in the middle of the night by a frantic Batman to check.

Was this case turning him into an insomniac? Maybe. Would it be worth it to see Marinette safe and sound back home? Most definitely.

Tim reached for his cup of ~~unholy concoction~~ nectar from the gods only to find the cup disappointingly empty. The coffee machine lived a few rooms away in the kitchen, Tim should ask Bruce if he was allowed to have a coffee machine in his room, it would be such a time saver. The question was, did he want to drag himself around the manor for a cup of coffee or pick up where he left off tomorrow?

There really was no contest. **_COFFEE!!!_**

Tim had long since memorised the long corridors of the manor, not an easy feat when lucid. Running into Alfred also fairly routine. Running in to Alfred while he led Marinette back to her room after she’d been missing for a week. Yeah, nothing unusual there.

Wait a second.

Tim looked up again to see a empty hallway.

Maybe he should go to bed. Hallucinating was only going to distract him. He’d find Marinette in the mourning.

* * *

To say that Alfred had mixed feelings would be the understatement of the century.

They, the Wayne household as a whole, were missing a crucial element here. It wasn’t like her, mostly from her experience pranking her brothers, she knew that her brother could take care of themselves. Something had set Marinette on edge before Damian went after Tim.

And when Alfred discovered what this was. Honestly, Alfred wasn’t sure what he’d do, but he would be sure that the punishment fit the crime. Whether that meant screaming till he was horse berating Marinette for over-reacting.

First thing in the morning. They were finally going to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

The morning had come far too quickly for Bruce’s liking. He could already feel the headache of the day setting in. One might think that a billionaire would not want for anything, but alas as any parent could tell you a quiet day simply can not be bought.

Between his Duties at Wayne industries and Batman he was tired enough. Then he also been christened father to, what was is Tim had taken to calling Damian. Demon spawn? Honestly though he loathed to admit it that was an apt description of Damian’s behaviour. They had yet to find a suitable punishment for Damian’s attack on Tim that night and his attempt on Marinette’s life.

Bruce had yet to show Tim or Dick the video of that particular incident, a riot was the last thing they needed.

Unfortunately, Damian still stood firmly in his belief that he should now process the Robin title. A title Tim still possessed. That was a bomb. It would go off soon rather then later. But for now, Damian was confined to his room under the guise that according to the public Damian still did not exist. The dreaded migraine set in just thinking about that particular media storm.

“Master Bruce, are you awake sir?” Thank all thing good for Alfred

“come in Alfred.” Was it just him or did Alfred sound more curt than usual? Was Alfred scowling.

‘I thought that was my thing’ instead Bruce chose to voice “Alfred?”

“Master Bruce I would like to enquire something of you.” Ok Alfred was angry, an emotion Bruce had seen very few times on Alfred, and he knew from experience that this was not going to end well for him.

“Of course,” ‘whelp better get this over with’

“Well, I was curious as to whether or not you were aware that that your youngest son apparently pulled a knife on your daughter.” Shit.

“Because if you were Master, I would say it’s a miracle Marinette decided to come back at all”

“wha -?”

“And another thing!” Alfred really wasn’t letting Bruce get a word in edgewise. “What is this poppycock I hear about you telling Marinette that she has to be a good example! Marinette, despite her physiology, is just as human as the rest of us! Furthermore, she is a child! A child who is too young and too kind to have IMPOSSIBLE STANDARD FORCED UPON HER!! AS YOUR DAUGHTER SHE WILL TRY HER BEST TO PLEASE YOU EVEN IF IT MEANS GOING AGAINST HER BETTER JUDGEMENT.”

The Batman had stared down Killer Croc, The Joker and every other horrifying-what kinda-sicko-wrote-this night Gotham had ever been able to dream up. But Nothing. Nothing could prepare him for an angry Alfred.

Thankfully, Alfred seemed to have gotten it all out of his system because the next words he spoke were calm, collected and even more terrifying.

“I informed Miss Marinette this morning that she would be responsible, **_if_** she so chose, to determine an appropriate punishment for Damian.” With that Alfred turned on his heals “I wish you luck Master Bruce”

Would it be too late to buy another bomb shelter?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a punishment picked out, I just wanna see if any of you can guess what?


	20. Don't Make Mari Mad (we sould have learnt this after Tim)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> punish. punish. punish.  
> punish. punish. punish.  
> punish. punish. punish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have nothing to say but I'm sorry this took so long. Life has been in a word hectic and I suck at managing my time on a good day.  
> but I hope you enjoy the insanity that is this chapter.

“Ok. First rule of Mao There will be no discussing of the rules of Mao”

_Well sh*t._

__

10 minutes ~~later~~ ago (pretend it says ago)

Marinette stood in front of her brother; Damian processed the title much to the dismay of more than just Mari. She possessed a look in her eye that spelt disaster for the recipient.

A look Damian was not familiar with. The league didn’t give looks they gave orders.

Damian therefor was completely unaware of the absolute hell he was due to experience.

Damian had just received an ultimatum. He had two requirements he had to meet IF he wanted to don the title of Robin. He had to demonstrate that he would not kill either his opponents or his teammate by completing Robin training with Batman. A condition Damian had begrudgingly accepted under the pretence that familiarising himself with his ~~family~~ ~~team~~ colleagues would beneficial. However even if, there was some doubt around his ability to not maim an opponent, he completed the robin training he would not be allowed to don the title or join patrols until he completed a second task. One that was to be selected by Marinette.

You know the little angel Damian tried to stab. Yeah, Damian was somewhat hesitant at hearing that. His mind flew straight to his discovery of the girl’s apparent invulnerability, which would significantly complicate any trial by combat. The young assassin nearly fell over laughing - obviously, he didn’t, what kind of normal human being do you take him for, he’s the son of I’m-going-to-work-though-all-of-my-complex-but-not-really-complex-emotions-by-punching-people-Batman.

The girl had challenged him to game of cards. When he won; he could become Robin. Simple as that.

Damian looked over at Tim, smugly of course, who was staring at his sister like she was one of his coffee induced hallucinations. Tim simply couldn’t believe that his beloved sister could allow Robin to be taken away from him so easily. She had to know how much this meant to him, how hard he’d worked for this. Of course, that changed the minute Marinette declared the card game he was playing.

Tim’s face lit up like it was Christmas morning, whereas Damian furrowed his brows slightly, the only sign or confusion he would allow his otherwise emotionless face to show. What exactly was this Mao. Not that it really mattered of course, it was a card game, Damian would simple observe the rules and win. Or more accurately Damian planned to card count and win.

Now you might be thinking, Damian you idiotic child, Marinette is the embodiment of sunshine and should always be protected and loved less she turns evil and take over the world. You know what you’d be right.

Damian turned to face his father, confident in his plot. Bruce’s head was hung with a sigh, obviously he had seen the girl’s inadequate ability to assign a punishment and was now hiding his face in shame. Perhaps this pointless game would be avoided entirely, it was after all simple a waste of time.

“Ok. First rule of Mao There will be no discussing of the rules of Mao”

* * *

Marinette was going to savour every moment of this.

Damian had gone looking full of himself – it should be illegal to look that smug – to looking like he’d just been slapped in the face.

And que the tantrum.

“What kind of a card game doesn’t have rules!” this was not up for debate

“there is no game if there are no rules!” Simple logic really all toddlers thought tantrums

“you can’t win if there are no rules.”

‘Yes, Damian that is the biggest problem here. totally not you thinking it’s ok to StAb PeOpLe‘ Marinette had every intention of teaching her little brother a lesson he would never forget.

Never. Underestimate. A. Bat.

The day Marinette donned a mask would be the day Gotham’s criminals ran crying. Not for her power, useful as they were. But for and ability that was all Marinette.

“I never said there were no rule, only that you couldn’t discuss them.”

One sentence. Not fists. Not kicks. Not a single act of violence, and Marinette had done the seemingly impossible.

She silenced the Demon Spawn. Marinette resisted the urge to roll on the ground laughing as realisation dawned on his face. He had just voice his own inability to listen to instructions.

Good. This boy had many lessons to learn. The first, was to listen and not just listen but to watch and observe. That would take a while, Lord knows Bruce had terrible communication skills at the best of times.

Marinette had not chosen randomly. Tim would have to be roped into playing of course and maybe Dick, hopefully the forced interaction, and inevitable loosing, would cause Damian to see the two in a new light.

“Let the games begin.”

This was going to be fun.

* * *

Marinette directed the boys to the family room.

Alfred was already there and waiting with a new deck of cards.

Marinette it turns graciously accepted the box and handed it on to Damian. “So, you can’t claim I cheated.” Was her only explanation.

With one eye on her and one on the cards Damian opened the sealed packet. He found nothing amiss with any of the cards he viewed. Standard, hearts, clubs, and spades.

Satisfied he move to pass the deck back, Marinette simple raised a hand and told him to shuffle. The fool. Damian would master this game’s soon enough but to also allow him unfiltered access to the cards and there order. How easy did she intend to make this game.

Out of the corner of his eye, Damian watched Marinette grab a cushion, always keeping half a mind on the deck in his hands. She placed it on the floor and sat down with her elder brothers following suit. His almost, read totally didn’t because trained assassin, missed the look Grayson shot Marinette. It said, _‘are you sure you want to do this?’._ Similarly, Marinette shot back one that said, _‘trust me.’_

Clearly Grayson understood how foolish handing him the deck had been, whereas Marinette was clearly to confident to admit her error if she even realised it at all.

Damian still in control of the deck asked how many cards needed to be dealt. 7, but none to Marinette would be the dealer. ‘a poker variant perhaps ‘thought Damian, with Marinette as the dealer.

Damian diligently dealt the hands, a series of different low number cards for the wards on either side of him careful to ensure the cards needed for either pairs or straights were either in another’s hand or near the bottom of the deck. He dealt himself a pair of kings and jacks, and a queen along with some lower cards he’d needed to get away from his opponents.

Marinette calmly took the deck from Damian when he was done. She held the deck in her hands, but still within view. It would seem she had no intention of altering the deck. She smoothly placed the top card facing upwards, 4 of hearts, gesturing for Dick to begin. Dick place a 6 of hearts calmly on top, before turning to Damian. His turn. The only correlation between the cards had ben the suit. It was safe to assume another heart would be safe. He placed, the 2 or hearts, number card and in suit, surely an acceptable move. More accurately he attempted to place the card, “seems easy enough.”

“Penalty.” Marinette spoke, curt and cold. Placing the top card from the deck in front of Damian,

Damian accepted that, he’d anticipated that there would inevitably be a few misconceptions on his part he simply hadn’t anticipated it in the first round. ‘perhaps the card must be higher then the previous,’ he thought and reached for a jack of hearts.

Unfortunately, Drake had already place down the 5 of hearts, before he had a chance. Looking annoyingly smug. “It’s my turn Drake. I would think you were competent enough to understand such a childish concept but clearly I was mistaken.”

The idiot didn’t even have the gaul to look insult, instead his coffee addled brain provided him with a devious grin.

A moment of confusion ended with a familiar “penalty,” From the dealer as she place another card infront of Damian.

“What! But . . ” Marinette cut him off with another.

“Penalty.”

Apparently Drake could look even more pleased with him self as Grayson, cringed.

I took Damian receiving half the deck as penalties for Damian to finally grasp what it was he was being penalized for. At one point Drake had fallen over laughing a Damian’s ~~incompetence~~ ~~difficulties~~ disadvantage, earning himself a penalty. The penalty had nothing to do with the multitude of card Damian had attempted to play, it had to do with him opening his big fat mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone who knows the card game, then you know exactly how hard it is and how annoying it can be.   
> If you have a favorite rule, you like to / have played with, feel free to add a coment but I'm not going to approve said comment because that would defect the purpose of Mao.
> 
> As for the spongebob refference I couldn't help me self ;P


	21. Let's just torture Damian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the chapter title

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I have absolutly no excuse for how late this chapter is I have two reasons  
> 1 - no time  
> 2 - no inspiration  
> so appologies but can't really make any promises

To say Damian was failing would be an understatement.

A month. One whole month. In that month he had yet to best this stupid, childless game.

One month of Marinette not even caring to look smug as she denied his birth right time and time again.

Father had thankfully allowed him to continue to train in the gym, the offers of lessons in less lethal fighting techniques were unwanted. Damian was certain there would have been blood sprayed onto the expense wood flooring instead of stuffing from yet another practice dummy.

Honestly, Damian was sure that Marinette had made the game up herself. That is until he looked it up online at the behest of Grayson, his only tolerable ‘brother’, he used the term loosely. Turns out Damian was half right. The game was real and had not been made up by Marinette, however there was not one single set of rules for the game, the dealer, Marinette, made up new rules as the game progressed. According to Google that was the purpose of the game, to determine the new rules created at the drop of hat.

Its infuriated Damian no end. To have the rules changing every 5, flipping minutes. How else was he supposed to prove to Father that he was deserving of the Robin title when he could not play a stupid game of cards? The dealer, Marinette, won every game.

Damian stood still his current actions forgotten.

Who said Marinette had to be the dealer?

* * *

“Grayson!” Damian demanded as he walked into the room of the only person who aided Damian in his task thus far. Alfred being the exception, but the help hardly counted, that was his job.

“Yeah Lil’ D?” Grayson call out from his closet, apparently selecting his garb for the day, Damian thought to himself. Given Grayson’s preference for acrobatics, the jeans were far to restrictive of his hindquarters to allow for efficient movement, whatever purpose they held escaped Damian, but it did not impede his agenda so why did it matter. Damian was not here to advise more functional and practical clothing but rather to insist Grayson help him gain his birthright.

“I require your participation in an activity, designed to best this pointless punishment of Dupain-Cheng’s.” Damian stated plainly. Yes, he called her Dupain-Cheng out loud and Marinette in his head. He’d been informed that the last name that supposedly belong to her previously belonged to her previous parents was fake, thus pointless for referring mentally to her station, he could hardly call her Wayne that would imply she was on his and Father’s level. Which of course she was not. None of his Father’s accumulated brood were.

“Um sure.” Grayson replied. He obviously hadn’t understood Damian’s clearly stated intentions. Honestly how had Father worked with such imbeciles for so long. Surely Father would see the advantage of working with someone more competent when Damian received the mantle and would dispose of the rabble once he saw the truth of their unnecessary presence.

Regardless of their competence Damian need only 2 people to play this infernal game. 2 warm bodies, Grayson was 1. “I shall see you at 10 o’clock for the match.” Damian spoke as he left the first Robin to do whatever it was, he did in the mornings.

He still needed to get to Marinette to ensure her attendance to her own downfall. Perhaps he should record the game so he could have video evidence for Father.

* * *

The three sat at the table at the appointed time. Marinette had no issues attending the game so long as Damian left her to her sewing and homework that evening. While Damian saw no point to her pursuit of needlework when she was the daughter of a man who could easily purchase a designer wardrobe at the drop of a hat. Though the skills might prove useful to her when Father no longer saw to the need to surround himself with a surplus of incompetent children.

Regardless the three sat at the table Marinette, reaching for the deck. Damian reached faster, claiming that he wanted to be the dealer. Marinette gave a puzzled look. Quite possible trying to figure out how I figured out her ‘genius’ punishment, Damian scoffed internally.

The game began as it had every other attempt only this time Damian was in control.

He had been far too smug when the young girl took serval turns to determine that she had to thank him for every penalty card received.

He had made several other equally, in his mind, annoying rules

A British salute for jacks – everyone went straight to the American solute and even Damian had to admit I was amusing to was Grayson even after figuring out what he was supposed to do kept forming the wrong salute. Alfred had even come in at one point and complained at the young master’s lack of proper form. It was quite entertaining

All players must bow to whomever plays a king (least dramatic bow receiving a penalty) – Damian had gotten caught up with this one several times himself and found it very amusing to watch both Marinette and Grayson realise that the king (since there were only two players) was effectively a guaranteed penalty to the other player.

Aces acted as a skip – Honestly Damian just had ~~fun~~ (no he didn’t, fun was a waste of time) some satisfaction dishing out all the penalties there. In previous games the ace was a reverse and the change of function had clearly thrown everyone for a loop.

Suffice it to say that even the boy with a heart of ice found himself enjoying the game, even if he refused to admit it, even to himself. Telling himself he simply enjoyed being closer to the end of the deck and his goal of the robin mantle.

Damian was most definitely NOT having any fun whatsoever.

Damian could not feel more satisfied when he finally given out all the penalties, he could give he deck was gone from his hands as he gave the final card to Marinette for her lack of compliment and Grayson’s 7, above hers (any double = compliment the other person). Was Damian smirking at the fact that he would end the game with a blow to the girl who had dammed him to the never-ending cycle. Oh, most definitely.

He finally won. He stood up and declared himself champion stating that he would join Grayson and Father for proper training that afternoon.

Grayson simply looked at him with an emotion Damian couldn’t pick though his best guess would probably be fear, at the new competition he would face with Damian within the family hiarchy. Marinette on the other hand sat there blank as a sheet, but only for one blissful moment of silence. Before she doubled over laughing.

Damian understood none of this, she should be humiliated that he had bested her instead the girl was practically rolling along the floor laughing. Had the Joker somehow infected the manor with laughing gas?

Marinette speaking began in broken speech before Damian could pursue the though further.

“I. . HaHa. . Thought it was, Ha. Out of character. Ha. you thought. HaHaHa.”

“Spit it out!” he yelled fed up with Marinette’s clear evasion to admitting her defeat.

“Ok,” Marinette sigh, stifling a final giggle, “The dealer can’t win Damian. Once you run out of deck your supposed to get the pile of cards in the middle then start using them as penalty cards until someone ends the game.”

There were so many thoughts going through Damian head he lost count. He’d never seen her do that. Marinette had never grabbed the pile in the middle he was sure of it.

Seemingly reading his mind Marinette continued “We never got that far in the game before because you always rage quite before a ran out of penalty cards.”

Damian stood there for a moment taking in the gravity of the situation. The Robin title was as far out of his reach as when he started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am evil


End file.
